What if Anna and Christian shape shifted into wolves?
by Zachary Lovelady
Summary: Ok, I know that might be a stretch, but before Anna & Christian, it was Bella and Jacob. Before Bella & Jacob, there was Anoki and Kiowa.
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE

High on a jagged mountaintop, dewdrops form on bushy pines. They collect upon the needles and drip one at a time until they fill the wild yellow daffodils to the brim. When the flowery buckets are full, they lean over and spill their nectar onto the earth. Crickets unwind their long curly tongues and lap up the ambrosia. Drunk on nature's liquor, they rub their hairy legs together and play their fiddles.

A shadow stirs in the crooked darkness. Two golden halos catch the moon's rays and glow. They hover in the infinite abyss.

A hooting owl mercifully rattles its tongue against the roof of its beak, asking, "Who? Who?" in short bursts. When no one can answer, it persists with long, drawn-out inquiries: "Whooooo? Whooooo?" The wise ol' owl warns all that danger lurks near those glowing eyes.

Restless creatures hear the warning and shy away. Those resting are fatally caught in the jaws of surprise. Predator and prey lock claws, antlers, and fangs, dancing an exhaustive tango of survival. Run, fight, or die—these are the laws of nature.

I am powerful! the wolf proudly thinks, patiently scanning the valley beneath him. He searches for his next victim. Antelope and deer think they find safety in obscure resting places, but Kiowa can see some of them.

A symphony of crickets applaud his bravado.

Corner flaps of his nostrils flare in short heaves, detecting the familiar scent of his companion among the drowning aroma of pine trees and sagebrush. The quieting crickets sober up when they feel the earth shake. They rest their fiddles and alert him that she is closer than he thinks.

He scans the valley, searching the open places where he can easily spy her. His eyes pull at the shifting shadows below the creaking trees. To mortal eyes, the report would be nothing but darkness. To the wolf's eyes, squirrels, rabbits, and skunks run as though the forest were on fire, even though clearly it is not.

Patches of white flash between breaks in the trees. Sudden flickers of motion catch his attention.

With soft excited whimpers, he lets Anoki know that he longs to see her.

Her pace increases, causing his paws to pat at the hard ground. His claws curl and scratch the earth.

All at once, she explodes through the thick shrubs. Moonlight strikes her beautiful ivory coat, eerily illuminating it. Her ghostly appearance would easily be mistaken for an apparition, were it not for her sparkling blue eyes and pink nose.

Her topaz jewels fix on Kiowa's golden glowing halos and reciprocate his anticipation.

The massive black-and-white wolf stands erect. Warm tingling sensations crackle like blue lightning in his heart and ignite a fire in those massive chambers. It is a fire that was not felt in her absence. His heart must be empty or he cannot kill. When those flames ignite, love swells and pumps across his thudding chest. He feels it spread from the tip of his black nose to the end of his white-tipped, bushy gray tail.

"Come to me!" He beckons his wife.

Anoki prances with a feminine finesse. She trots over with a giddiness in her step. She gently presses her soft cheek against his firm chest. Kiowa inhales her spirit and instantly knows from her many scents that she has hid in the musky den with the cubs, traveled by the minty spring, rolled in the wild prairie flowers, and passed through the tall evergreen forest.

She presses herself along Kiowa's side, then pauses briefly, letting her soft bushy tale delicately rest beneath his snout. She thinks of all the victims who have fallen prey to his fierce jaws. It excites her to know that only her elegance and grace are permitted to dance past those treacherous gates.

She drags the rest of her fluffy tail beneath his jaw and across his back. She turns and smiles when she feels him shudder.

"Your soul is fused to mine," he whispers.

"As yours is to mine. Why else do you think I was brought here? I felt the stitches tug," she responds, circling him. She tilts her sleek nose down and presses her forehead to his. Their ears lower. Their tails wag. They remain staring deep into each other's eyes like this until the electric emotions overwhelm him. The chambers explode, causing Kiowa to tilt his head up, exposing his pale, broad chest. With a deep heave, he unleashes a high-pitched howl, which echoes miles away. The hooting owl spreads its wings and scatters loose feathers. The coyotes tuck their tails and run. Bears snuggle up against their cubs. Raccoons shiver and climb trees. Even the cougars seek shelter inside caves to protect their young. None are safe from the King of the Currumpaw. All are meat.

Anoki tilts her head back and howls just a few octaves higher than Kiowa. The two croon the beastly song of love as the moon goes down.

Amber sun flecks dance across the towering mountain peaks, gathering in the graceful grassy valleys below. Morning birds join the howling wolves and a new day for an old love is born.

Aaaaaaarrrrrreeeeewwwww!

 **MERRY CHRISTMAS: AUTOGRAPHED COPY GIVE AWAY. GO TO INSTA: HARVESTMOONOFFICIAL. LOOK FOR THE BOOK GIVEAWAY POST**

 **A word from the author:** Welcome to the tribe. I suppose you're wondering if Anoki and Kiowa are people or wolves. (Sigh) I suppose the only way you can find out is to read on curious reader. Watch the trailer on insta:harvestmoonofficial. If you want to skip to the world collision, that begins on Chapter 76.


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

"That's not scary!" a bucktoothed lad named John interrupts. His doubtful tone and squinty chestnut eyes shatter the Woodcraft Indian scoutmaster's trance over his four-man troop.

"We want to hear a scary story, not a y-u-c-k-y love story!" his brother protests, curling his fingers like claws and baring his missing front teeth. The most obvious difference between the two brothers is that Luther's hair is pitch-black and John's is light brown.

"I don't want to hear a scary story." Kevin, a five-year-old Korean boy, whimpers. He pulls his wool blanket over his bowl-cut black hair. He does this not because he's cold, but because Charlie, his scoutmaster, terrifies him.

"Me either!" Zack, John's youngest brother, shouts, almost matching Kevin's squeaky tone. He glances over his shoulder, flashing the same chestnut eyes his brothers have. The most handsome of the Taylor brothers, he moves closer to the fire and pulls his winter cap down farther, nearly covering his sandy blond hair.

"You're two years older than me," Kevin whispers to Zack. "You're supposed to be braver than I am. Who's gonna protect me in this dark, scary place?" Kevin scans the looming woods. "Run, kill, or die," he chirps. Without a doubt, he knows he would run.

Luther lifts a flaming marshmallow out of the fire and holds it to his lips. The orange flames illuminate his freckled face and scraggly black hair. "I'm not scared." He cocks his head and teases them. "You guys are titty-sucking babies!"

"Are not!" John cries out, leaping off his stump.

Luther puckers his abnormally puffy lips and says, "Are sooo!" as he makes a sucking noise. He turns his attention to the scoutmaster. "Tell us the story about the one-legged man, 'Click Shaw'!"

The scoutmaster's big blue eyes and bulging gnome cheeks divide with a prominent English nose, a bushy mustache, and narrow lips. His pudgy frame fills his khaki Woodcraft Indian shirt out to the point where the buttons pucker and nearly pop off. The fiftysomething man sits on a log stump near the fire and sips a steaming cup of coffee from a worn tin cup. It nearly matches the color of his silver-speckled brown hair.

"Yous fellas don't want to hear about the great Canadian wolf hunter?"

"Yeah, I wanna hear about that!" John turns to Luther with a sour face. "'Click Shaw' is a stupid story, and we've already heard it!"

Insulted by his oldest brother's protest, Luther gasps and shouts, "IS NOT!"

"IS SO!"

The two continue like this until Charlie calms them.

"It's super-duper dumb!" Zack aligns with John and makes sure he gets the last word.

"No way. It scared me so bad the last time I heard it, I slept under my mom's bed for a week." Kevin whimpers, blinking with pouting eyes. "Don't tell us scary stories in this dark, eerie forest."

"Scaredy-cat!" Kyle mocks him.

"All right, all right, settle down. It's not a scary story, Kevin. 'Chai Ma Kue' is a story of Indian love and magic."

Charlie pauses and waits for a response. When the boys' faces sag, he adds, "It has some scary parts, though!"

The boys' faces light up.

"There's a war," he emphasizes as he sets his coffee mug down.

"A war?" Luther perks up, raising his brows hopefully.

"It began a long time ago. Imagine, if you can, a place where prairies stretch out like an ocean until the grasslands recede and turn into dry desert lands."

As he speaks, he reaches into his pocket and throws a handful of dry red berries into the crackling fire. They snap and pop. Thick purple smoke plumes, and the Woodcraft Indian scoutmaster masterfully stages the scene. He picks up a drum.

"Many tribes roamed these lands," he says, pounding a beat and then handing Zack the drum. The boy eagerly snatches the drum out of Charlie's hands and matches the beat.

Charlie claps his hands with arms stretched out in front and raises his hands high above his head. He sings, "These are the tribes"—he spins around and grabs a pair of rough bark sticks, smacks them together, and hands them to John—"of Indian nations."

Charlie hands Kevin his empty tin cup and flicks it with his fingernail to add a high tone to his makeshift band. The boy takes it and hums along.

"Hi aiye, hiya." Charlie releases a Native American chant the boys have never heard, but they rouse and rally.

"Hi aiye, hi aiye," the boys repeat in chorus.

Charlie cups his hands and pushes the purple smoke up to his face. He inhales, then blows it out in rings. Holding two fingers out, he draws them behind his ear and makes the sign of the Kiowa.

"There were many tribes that wandered these lands. The Kiowa. The Blackfoot. The Comanche. The Crow. The Sioux. The Cherokee. The Navajo, and the Hopi, to name just a few." The boys marvel at the distinct signs his hands make identifying each respective tribe.

The rotund scoutmaster claps his hands together again, making a thunderous noise that echoes off the dark trees as the purple smoke swirls above their heads and then fades against the rising pearl moon.

Charlie reaches inside his bag and removes a leather pouch. He unfolds it and reveals four brown-and-white eagle feathers. Holding one up by the stiff quiver, he spins it in his fingers.

"Our story begins with the Kiowa." He hands each boy an eagle feather, then turns around, snatches up the leather pouch, and shoves his hand back in.

The boys' wondrous wide eyes zero in on whatever must be inside. Charlie slowly removes a plastic bag of hot dogs.

"Wowie zowie, hot dogs!" Zack shouts, dropping his feather and clamoring for his dinner.

Charlie takes his seat. "Scattered all across the plains are rolling rocky peaks that twist and turn into emerald mountaintops, packed limb to limb with towering pine, spruce, and Douglas fir trees as big as any you ever seen. Wild prairie flowers fill the air with sweet scents, and their purple, yellow, white, and red bodies spring up freely all around, covering the earth in a colorful quilt of beauty. Down beneath the emerald growth, beige rocky deserts span out as far as the eye can see and sometimes turn into steep winding canyons and rolling mesas. Running waters pass through at length and unite the vast land, offering life to everyone and everything. The plains are rich pastures, which are great for cattle range. This desolate beauty is known as the Currumpaw." He skewers a hot dog and lowers it into the fire. "The Kiowa were a warrior tribe," he says as the boys use red-handled Swiss Army knives to sharpen pine sticks to points and then skewer their hot dogs.

"Currumpaw was a place of prescribed beauty, but it wasn't always obvious. In the blazing summers, it was ugly as sin. Cactus and scorching sands burned the venom right out of scorpions. Spring was different. Nights were warm. Evenings were cool. It was a land of sunshine and wildflowers. The air was rich and full of songbirds' sweet music.

"The funny thing about the Currumpaw is that no matter the season, dawn and sunset transform that place into a magnificent gem. Beige mountains turn pink or tangerine orange. It is unexpected and majestic."

He pauses and stares off in the distance, as though he can actually see it.

"And terribly dangerous! Though nature poses its own challenges with bitter dry winters, there are, of course, other dangers." Charlie's voice energizes. He holds his hands up and curls his long, chubby fingers. "The claws of the grizzly bear are powerful enough to tear a man's head off with one swipe!" He swooshes his hands at Luther's face. The courageous boy flinches, which causes the other boys to duck and almost drop their weenies.

Charlie slowly scoops his hand to his mouth. "With a single bite, a bear's jaws can bite a man in half. These wild bears are known to terrorize the Indians. Oh, and there are cougars aplenty! And though they may not have the power of grizzly bears, they have speed and determination. Did any of you know a single lion was responsible for the deaths of fifty grown men bigger than me?"

The boys stare in astonishment and shake their heads in disbelief.

"Beneath almost every rock, creeping, crawling critters lurk. 'Course, the venomous fangs of rattlesnakes and the poison of scorpion tails hide from the sun and come out at night, putting the sting of their hate in whatever they can…just because they can!"

"It sounds like a terrible place!" Kevin shouts.

"Yes! It was a terrible, wonderful place. For the Kiowa, it was home."

Charlie can see that the boys are paying full attention now.

"Our story begins with an Indian raid…"

 **To the reader:** Thank you for reading my story... A word of advice, skimming this story may result in your front door being kicked in. A lasso around your waist. And drug out into the street and dunked in the nearest freezing pool. This is a very detailed story. Skimming will mean you don't understand what's going on later. So if you're thinking of bouncing to chapter 10, think again. Or don't and do what's in your nature. To skip to the Anna & Christian story, it begins at Chapter 76. The rest of this story is detailing the wolves shape shifting power. The source of it, "Chief Black Bear." Two Indians who find it and use it for love, "Kiowa & Anoki." I've worked really hard on it and I think you will all like it a lot.

If you would like to get the book/kindle version, check me out on amazon. If you want to see the trailer and some awesome pics, bounce over to instagram: harvestmoonofficial


	3. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

A lone Kiowa warrior loosens rawhide straps that stitch together his shirt. The fringe on the sides accentuates each motion. He removes the garment and feels a morning chill against his muscular chest, which looks like it belongs to a chiseled statue. Enhanced by his reddish-brown skin, his rippling abdomen muscles flex.

Pink scars stand out in stark contrast to his permanently tanned skin. Some are small and indicate his skill and speed. The deepest, ugliest scars are the ones he's most proud of. "Proof of my magic," he would say when he would tell his sons war stories.

He hears the frenzied barking of dogs, which makes him suspicious. Sleepy-eyed warriors dressed in nothing but buckskin loincloths abandon the warmth of their tepees. They yawn and stretch themselves awake.

Lazy, Lone Wolf thinks to himself, wiping his grooved face.

His jaw flexed, he slowly scans the distant tree line with determination. He glances at the crackling fires and then up at the sparkling stars, which are beginning to fade in dawn's early light. His high cheekbones lift and make his almond-shaped eyes squint.

"Barking dogs. Predawn. This is no coincidence," Lone Wolf grumbles.

As the tribe slip into their leggings and blouses, a brave points at the dogs and says, "They just started."

"We are about to be attacked. Awake the women and alert the warriors." Lone Wolf speaks with a calm, firm mouth and a decisive tone. His authority is not questioned. The brave leaps to action with Lone Wolf's dismissive sign.

"Hey ya at ah hey!" The brave runs over to a wide drum and pounds on it, whooping the war cry.

Lone Wolf wraps his long silky black hair around his fingers and twists it into a bun. He pins it in place with a thin fish bone as the war cry travels from tepee to tepee. His wife and children quickly grab his war dress and weapons.

Lone Wolf's wife, Grass Woman, appears with a noble eagle-feathered war bonnet. She proudly places it on his head and fastens the chinstrap. The tallest feathers in front represent Lone Wolf's most epic battles. The smaller feathers mean less to him, but they are still recorded victories. A long trail runs down his back and nearly touches the ground.

"I will gain many feathers today!" Lone Wolf says, reaching for his weapon of choice, a bleached elk shoulder blade, which has been sharpened and spiked. Dried rust-colored bloodstains indicate the weapon's extensive use. His son holds the weapon out to him, smiling when his father receives it.

His oldest son, Two Moons, hastily paints a rectangular black square around his dark brown eyes, to keep him focused.

"My love for each of you swells with pride every time you prepare me for battle!"

"Father, it is our honor," Two Moons replies as he sharpens the corners to his war paint.

Grass Woman ties a leather pouch of magic to Lone Wolf's waistband and kisses him on the cheek. "May you kill many enemies, fill my arms with their scalps, and return without harm," she prays aloud, looking at her sons.

Lone Wolf glances at his wife. "You magnify my love for you with these sons you have given me. Ah-hoe, Grass Woman, you are my beautiful little woman."

She blushes, then scurries about grabbing this and that, anything he may need for the fight.

"Hurry. We haven't much time!" Lone Wolf orders his elite band of savage Dog Warriors.

Within moments Two Moons has his father's face, neck, chest, arms, abdomen, and back covered in red paint. Dipping his finger in black, he quickly smears a wolf's image over his father's heart.

"Darken the light areas with streaks," Two Moons orders his younger brother, Weasel Tail, as he begins covering himself in red paint. Aged sixteen and fourteen, the boys are not virgins to war, but they are not seasoned Dog Warriors, either. Two Moons looks up to his father. "I pray to the wolf that you will be swift, powerful, and deadly."

Weasel Tail rests his fingertips on his father's head. "I pray to the wise owl that you will have courage, cunning, and above all, wisdom."

Their father closes his eyes and listens to their prayers. He feels the increase in his heartbeat as it matches the beat of the drum. Thump, thump, thump…

He reflects on the word "wisdom" of his son's prayer and envisions his previous enemies' conquered faces. One by one he plays out the mistakes they made. He sees their leg muscles flex, their heels rising as they step too far forward or their muscles relax, heels staying on the ground as they shuffle back.

Watch the toes. Toes tell you everything! he thinks, mentally preparing himself. The drum keeps time.

Elderly women and children frantically run around and dump thick bushels of moss on crackling fires. Flames swell at first, then create a lingering smoky haze that billows and hovers.

An old woman orders a young boy, "Go fetch the medicine man, Onendah. Our smoke is not working properly. It will never mask the village like this! We need his magic."

The tribe divides itself into those who can fight and those who cannot. Some women remove their beaded buckskin tops and expose their bare breasts. With the help of their husbands and children, they paint themselves red like the warriors. The elderly, the young women, and the children hastily paint their own faces and clothes brown and green to match the colors of the forest.

"Don't forget your brother," Glances Then Glares says as she straps her son Makes Trouble to a papoose. His sister, Kida, slides her arms through the cradle's straps and secures her brother to her back. When she's finished, Glances Then Glares looks up at the enemy, then down at her daughter. She leans in and kisses her surprisingly calm daughter.

"Go now to the safe place I showed you!"

Kida retreats and dissolves into the forest with the others.

Glances Then Glares wipes a tear from her eye. She grits her teeth, grabs a bow and a stash of three-foot-long arrows with four-inch feathered fletch-and-steel tips. The arrows are painted with similar symbols of magic, which identify her tribe, her falcon god, and wavy symbols of the wind to guide her aim true. Grooves carved in the shaft allow blood to ooze out, while the tips are loosely fastened so that when the enemy pulls to extract them, they stay in place.

Chaos turns to order as the entire tribe readies for war in less than fifteen minutes. Lone Wolf raises his weapon high in the air. Painted warriors quickly circle around him.

"Put fear in their hearts before you shatter them! A heart filled with courage will not break. A heart filled with fear blows apart like withered leaves."

"Ha hoe!" the warriors shout in unison. Their voices echo off in the distance and send a message to their unseen enemies that the Kiowa are not afraid.

Surrounding their chief, the men show their crude weapons of war. Some hold iron-cast tomahawks, while others ready weapons of their own creation. Some have carved spikes or wrapped deer-hide tomahawks with round stone tips. Others have spears. Most warriors have shields with sacred animals painted on them.

Some greet the unseen foe with smiles, some with frowns. Everyone feels the thrill and responds accordingly.

"Father, we are ready," Two Moons shouts.

Lone Wolf stomps his foot and leads the whooping Kiowa war cry.

"AIYE YA-AYE HI WHA YA!"

Their voices unite in one loud roar, echoing off the distant pine trees surrounding their clearing and sending the ravens soaring. The black birds hover in the summer sky like black demons, circle appraisingly, and caw. The vile ravens perch outside of the fray, jeering at the players.

"Do you see how they would not land on those trees over there?" Lone Wolf asks his sons.

Two Moons nods.

"Why do you think that is?"

 **To the reader:** Ever suspect someone wanted to attack you? Maybe you could tell by the way the looked in your eye. Maybe you could feel it. Maybe they yelled at you and let you know it. Here's a question, what did you do? One of the best parts of writing Lone Wolf is I never question what he will do, its so simple, he's going to attack!

If you would like to get the book/kindle version, check me out on amazon. Search for "Harvest Moon," Zachary H. Lovelady. If you want to see the characters come to life, bounce over to instagram: harvestmoonofficial


	4. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

"It is because our enemy is there." Two Moons grunts, pointing at the trees the birds avoided.

"This I know. Ravens always linger for rewards," says Raven Claw, a short but fierce warrior. His narrow face tightens and his eyes squint into slivers.

In the thick of the dense pine forest, beneath the cawing ravens, a Cheyenne chief lies flat on his belly. Covered in the hide of a black bear, he remains perfectly still and completely hidden beneath the North Pacific ferns. His stone-colored eyes shift back and forth. He exhales gruffly. Beneath his hooked nose, his abnormally large jaw clenches. He tilts his broad face to the side; the right side is painted black and the left, white.

Will they charge us? Fox Thoughts, a seasoned warrior, signs as he gives away his camouflaged position.

If they knew where we were, Black Bear signs back.

All they would have to do is look beneath the cawing ravens, Fox Thoughts signs.

An elderly Kiowa medicine man steps in front of the Kiowa tribe. His face is painted red, with stripes of black. A yellow circle is painted around his right eye to show that he has the power of future sight. A pale moon is painted around his left eye so that he does not forget the past. His long silver hair is divided into two braids. Wire copper rings widen his earlobes. Around his wrinkled neck, he wears a bear-claw necklace. Beads mesh against the claws. Each color represents a spell, and he wonders, Which one will help the most and use the least magic? Gold wrist couplings gleam in the morning light. He clacks them three times, summoning his power. Fog will protect us, he thinks. His deerskin leggings and bone breastplate are woven with the scalps of his enemies. Not all are Indian; some are white people. By the length and curl, a few are obviously women's.

Brass bells and a human scalp hang from the handle of his wand. The tip is an eagle's claw with a round clear crystal firmly fixed in place. He raises his medicine wand and chants.

"PAHN-BAH-KHAW-BAH." The turquoise-encrusted handle begins to glow like blue lightning. The facets of the crystal ball illuminate his face and reflect in his pupils.

He raises his hands up and down, summoning a strong breeze that lifts loose silver strands of hair off his shoulders. The leather fringe in his worn bleached-white blouse rattles against his sides. His brown eyes gloss with a milky haze. Vapors rise from the earth. As he chants, the vapors turn into a thick fog and swirl around his firm frame. Soon the village is masked by the medicine man's magic. His wand glows like a lantern on a misty day. When his work is done, the light fades and a village that could be spotted by a sneaky enemy is now perfectly concealed in a smother as thick as a cloud.

In the pine forest, the sneaky enemy, Chief Black Bear, signs, Do not let their medicine man fool you; they are terrified.

Reflecting on this latest development, he's forced to reconsider his commitment to the raid. He scans the Kiowa village and admires their mind for war. The smoke screen conceals every living soul, and the barking dogs have cost him his most precious weapon, the element of surprise. Chief Black Bear pauses for a moment and wonders, Is their magic stronger than mine? He appraises the village, counting the tops of tepees poking out of the thick gray cloud.

Fifty tepees means fifty warriors—maybe more but probably less. The main body of their tribe is off hunting, Black Bear thinks. What is that to my hundred? His confidence surges, and he leans toward attack.

Gray Hawk approaches his father, Black Bear, and the two crouch together, conspiring.

"The warriors grow uneasy and want to return to camp," his son whispers. Gray Hawk, a younger and handsomer version of his father, wears a thick, bushy, dome-shaped war bonnet of gray hawk feathers. His face and muscular chest are painted black, with streaks of white.

Black Bear remains silent. He focuses intently on the stirring mist.

"Father, they sign 'bad magic' and fear for their scalps."

"Magic?" Black Bear says with a broad smile. "I have the greatest magic on earth!" He hammers his fist to his bone-plated chest armor.

The Kiowas' smoke stirs, the mist whirls, and the haze reveals a lone shadow. It is soon joined by another and another.

The numbers grow quickly, and Black Bear counts about fifty. The Kiowas' thunderous war cries make the tribe sound like hundreds, maybe even a thousand warriors. The Cheyenne chief wonders if his hundred warriors are enough for this fight.

If we leave, the warriors will lose respect for me. Surely one will challenge me. But if we fight…He steadies his heart rate, closes his eyes, and seeks vision. His eyes flutter as he searches for an answer. He knows this is the most critical piece of information any chief can ascertain before waging an attack. How many warriors do I face?

"Listen! Listen to your chief! Take courage! Like all of you, my heart had doubts. They blew in just now, but I have just been told by our war god, Hotamintanio, to purge our hearts of doubt and fear. Give ear to my words. In my vision Hotamintanio says the main tribe is farther north chasing buffalo. We found their tracks and followed them back here, did we not?"

A few men nod.

"Hotamintanio says no more than fifty Kiowa are in that village and if we leave, their horses and scalps will not be ours. He says to light a fire of wrath in your hearts. It is our right to raid. RAID NOW! Take from them their women, their horses, and their scalps, even their children. Make our tribe rich! Do you want to offend our god?"

The men look around, their doubting expressions mirrored all around them.

A warrior with arms as big as boulders speaks up. "I have two troubles that lean me toward leaving. Your first vision said this would be the fight to end all the Kiowa. This isn't one fight, but now two. My second trouble is with your magic. It made sense when we could stalk them, easily kill them in their sleep, and take all the spoils you promised us. How can your magic be believed now that they are awake and ready to give us a good fight? The spoils should already be in our hands. We have much to lose. Women. Children. Horses. Scalps. I say my scalp is better fixed to my head. I say it is better to kill and scalp you than take these risks."

Gray Hawk steps forward and speaks over his father in a hushed voice with outstretched hands. "You cannot threaten my father, Boulder Arms. Your strength will feed your family. But my father has told me something he has not yet told you. Listen to him now before your heart fails you."

The warriors' long, painted faces turn toward Chief Black Bear.

"If you leave this war party, you make peace. The Kiowa will use your peaceful kindness against you. They will make more children. We will fight again— you know this to be true. If we fight now, we take their peace from them. Do you so easily forget your hatred for what the Kiowa have done to our people? Do you forget the hell they made for us on their last raid? I say we make a hell for them. Let their women be your wives! Make their children your slaves. Imagine if our women and children never had to dress an animal or gather firewood. Our days would be made easier by the hell we make for them today."

Chief Black Bear's speech is incredibly effective. "Their horses will be yours. Boulder Arms, you can pick first of everything we take!"

This brings many agreeable nods.

Boulder Arms still isn't convinced.

As Black Bear gains steady support, his eyes flash with excitement. He raises his voice, but not loud enough to be heard by the Kiowa. "Think of the glory that will be ours. Their scalps will rest on the arms of our women, who will dance with them, singing, 'Look, here is my enemy who cursed me. What has become of him now?' Which of you would not want this honor?"

The warriors raise their weapons and celebrate with growing approval— everyone except Boulder Arms.

"I see that you do not support me, Boulder Arms, and you have challenged my magic. That is good! Who can say magic is this or that without seeing it with their own eyes?"

Boulder Arms nods with a deep, questioning frown.

"Look here!"

 **To the reader,** thank you for reading my story... I'd especially like to thank you for not skipping. I promise, the details will pay off over the long run. Well, I've gabbed enough, get back to the story.

If you would like to get the book/kindle version, check me out on amazon, "Harvest Moon," Zachary H. Lovelady. If you want to see the trailer and some awesome pics, bounce over to instagram: harvestmoonofficial


	5. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Chief Black Bear leaps to his feet and answers Lone Wolf's challenge. "Behold, the Sun God has blessed me with his power!" he shouts as he unveils a supernaturally golden lance that glows like the amber flames of the sun. Brilliant light illuminates his eerie black-and-white painted face and his greedy smile. A glowing, celestial light creeps up his arms and arcs over his shoulders, then trails down his torso. His cold, hard eyes shift back and forth wildly. His long black hair blows back. Whereas Lone Wolf's war bonnet is crafted out of eagle feathers, Black Bear's war bonnet is made out of the sun.

"Warriors, hear me! Boulder Arms has asked to see my power, and here it is!"

"Ha ya!" the Cheyennes' whooping war cry begins.

Chief Black Bear swipes his fingers across Boulder Arms's chest to make the mark of the bear claw. Glowing light illuminates from the finger trace.

"He paints with the sun! Our chief has the power!" Boulder Arms declares.

"Let the bravest warriors touch Boulder Arms and share in my power."

One by one the strongest and bravest Cheyenne touch the magic mark and stand in awe as the amber aura passes from him to them.

Black Bear shouts, "See my power and believe my words. This is the first battle that will end the Kiowa. Tomorrow we will find the rest of their tribe and kill them all! Ready your tomahawks! Unsheathe your spears! Prepare your arrows! Spread your warrior wings and dip your feathers in the lake of their blood. Do not worry about your own scalp. Instead, let them fear the gleam of our scalping knives. Today the SUN GOD IS WITH US!"

A hundred black-and-white painted Cheyenne warriors, glowing with the light of the sun, circle around Black Bear and Gray Hawk to revel in their glory. Their hopes are high, and they are ready to attack.

Chief Black Bear steps out of the shadowy forest, parading the golden lance high above his head. Not wanting to commit his full force to the fight, he makes a strategic decision to divide his force into two groups: a main attack composed of his best warriors to wear the Kiowa down, and a reserve force he will send in later to finish them off.

Black Bear points his magic lance at the Kiowa and shouts, "TAKE COURAGE! KILL THEM ALL!"

Across the field, Lone Wolf is shocked to see a strange phenomenon emanating from within the forest, beneath the cawing raven. The sun seems to have fallen from the sky, and its rays now flicker and burst up out of the tree line.

Has the sun lost its place? Lone Wolf wonders.

The Kiowa warriors gasp at what they see. Chief Black Bear seems more like a god than a man.

Lone Wolf does something he's never done before; he takes a step back and feels a great fear tighten in his throat. His legs wobble and feel as heavy as mountains.

"Cheap tricks," Lone Wolf hears the medicine man, Onendah, protest, as he stops out of the mist. "If they could use that power to harm us, why wouldn't they?"

Onendah's calm voice reduces Lone Wolf's fear. As he looks heavenward, his worried eyes spy a pure white eagle soaring over the tall pointy pine trees. Its high-pitched screech scatters the ravens and sends them swarming for cover. Their cawing symphony mixes with the Kiowas' war song.

Without flapping its wings, the white eagle glides over towering evergreens that nearly touch the sky. Time seems to slow as the swaying trees lean one way, then gradually the other.

"I know not your name, White Eagle, but I must understand: Have you come to take me to the happy hunting grounds?" Lone Wolf questions.

Lone Wolf watches the elegant creature tilt its wings. His eyes grow heavy and drop to the earth; he watches the eagle's shadow slowly circle around him. He looks up and feels an avalanche of emotions crash inside him. For the first time in his life, he feels the frost of death nipping at his heels. As quickly as the fear came, it melts. Lone Wolf feels an immediate sense of calm that erases the pettiness of this world. For a tranquil moment, it is evident that his circle is complete.

"They sound close. Should we not step out of the mist and greet them?" Two Moons asks, breaking Lone Wolf's tranquility.

Lone Wolf takes a deep breath and looks beyond this life. He rests his weapon against his thigh. His massive shoulders rise and flex. The veins in his neck contract. His biceps pulsate. His back muscles tighten. He tilts his head and cracks his neck.

"Father, can you hear me?" Two Moons asks.

"Shields up! Arrows will soon fall like raindrops," Lone Wolf answers, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"What will we do?"

Lone Wolf searches for words that will inspire his son. They form slowly in his heart and come softly from his lips. "Live your lives as though there is no tomorrow, for today is all we really have! I have spent my life fighting. I know what I must do!"

Lone Wolf ties his shield to his arm, smiles, and then charges the Cheyenne all on his own.

 **To the reader:** A word from our sponsors. We don't have any. enjoy the read!

If you're looking for a good Christmas gift, bounce over to Amazon and gethe kindle/book. "Harvest Moon," by Zachary H. Lovelady. If you would like to see the story come alive, check us out on Instagram: harvestmoonofficial


	6. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Lone Wolf's hasty attack lifts the morale of his enemies. They respond by drawing the strings of their bows, eagerly awaiting the symphony notes they will add to the chorus of war cries.

"See how afraid they are, my brothers!" Black Bear shouts. "Only one warrior is brave to fight!"

Black Bear points his magical lance at the painted bowmen.

"Deliver death!" the Cheyenne chief orders his longbow archers.

The snap of their strings unleashes a whistling wave of arrows, which arch high in the blue morning sky.

Lone Wolf watches the distant splinters scatter like swarming locusts. They peak at a high arch, level out, and then the tips tilt and they come raining down. He sprints for a fallen tree that the men have been hollowing out for a fishing canoe.

Arrows dive into the earth. Wobbling three-foot-long shafts thunk as they strike the trunk. Their distinct markings identify the owners as the Cheyenne tribe. Additional markings show that they are actually several bands of the Cheyenne nation.

From Black Bear's vantage point, Lone Wolf's position is riddled with arrows. He hails his victory with a bold war cry that excites his reserves and makes them froth for the attack. The archers fire a second wave.

Flint-tipped arrows continue to strike all around Lone Wolf. He sees the arrowheads spark when they smash against the ground and snap in half.

"Thank you, Taime, for sending me an enemy that has poor craftsmanship," Lone Wolf whispers to his god. "And thank you for letting Water Boy play in the grass last night. Had he not skipped and danced all about, poorly made flint arrows could have sent your other son, Fire Boy, to destroy us."

Bodies covered in black-and-white paint sprint across a wide-open field that separates the Kiowa from the forest. Half of their bodies disappear in the tall lime-green grass.

Bushy dome-shaped war bonnets made of ravens' feathers swoosh back and forth as they go. The enormous size makes their heads seem much larger than they really are.

"Nat hey, hey ya!" The Cheyenne scream their war song.

Lone Wolf can tell by their aggressiveness that these relentless warriors have one ambition, to wet their weapons with Kiowa blood. The thought of his children or his brothers being harmed ignites a fire that feels like an exploding sun. Courage melts to hatred. What can be done? They wave their weapons wildly and sing for our scalps, he thinks.

Lone Wolf lies low against the grass and watches to see how the Cheyenne move. He intentionally placed the village a good distance from the forest for this exact reason. At the time it had seemed like a good idea, but now that he sees the quarter mile the Cheyenne must sprint across, he knows it was wonderful wisdom!

From the Cheyennes' perspective, the waist-high grass makes the village seem closer than it actually is. The bravest, most excited warriors separate from the pack.

Lone Wolf pushes his seething rage back to clear his mind. He does as his father taught him: watch, plan, act.

Most of the Cheyenne run at a similar pace, but what makes Lone Wolf happiest is seeing the increasing number of stragglers exhaust themselves and slow to a trot.

In your weakness, I will take strength! Lone Wolf thinks, biding his time.

Behind the patient, motionless warrior, the lingering hazy smoke cloud begins to clear. Seventy men and women painted blood red grip their weapons of war.

Half of the Kiowa spearmen hold long metal-tipped spears twice the length of their bodies. Archers carry fine bows and metal-tipped arrows. The Dog Warriors ready their shiny steel tomahawks and their buffalo-hide shields.

When the Kiowa can finally see the Cheyenne approaching, they release a war cry with one loud voice, which surges like a wave over the field and causes some of the Cheyenne to rethink their attack.

Chief Lone Wolf's confidence rises to elation when he sees that his enemies' arrowheads aren't the only weapons made of stone. Their tomahawks, spears, lances, and crude weapons are all crafted with some use of stone, which means they won't cut as deep, fly as far, swing as fast, or do nearly as much damage as his tribe's superior weapons.

"Bad day to be Cheyenne," Lone Wolf mumbles.

Rather than sprint toward their enemy, the Kiowa start at a steady pace that keeps their group united and focused.

Lone Wolf smiles broadly. "Now when we fight, we fight as one!"

He waits for the Cheyenne warriors to get even closer before standing up.

Gray Hawk, Chief Black Bear's son, stops in his tracks as he approaches their spent arrows. Unable to locate their kill, he looks behind him and realizes that his raiders have dispersed.

"GET UP HERE, COWARDS!" he orders the stragglers.

Though they are near, they are still too far behind.

"Wait for the others!" Gray Hawk shouts to his sprinting brothers. "We must be united!" But weapons once unleashed are hard to tame and impossible to control.

Something doesn't feel right, Gray Hawk thinks. He turns back and tries to motivate the larger separated body, but the temperature has risen to the point that they are panting.

From the safety of the forest, Black Bear revels in the soft glow of his power until he sees his youngest, and favorite son, Gray Hawk, trying to stop the assault. He watches his bloodthirsty braves within reach of the Kiowa village and wishes for his son to be with them.

Show no weakness! Glory is yours, my son! the impatient chief signs.

At the edge of the village, hidden among the tall grass, several Kiowa braves spring up from the earth and snap the strings of their bows. They quickly cycle through their stash of arrows and laugh as they watch their projectiles puncture the sinister Cheyennes' bodies. One by one the raging lead element falls.

Lone Wolf watches their blood wet the grass. He patiently waits for their bold cries of war to change to the chorus of agony.

All of the Kiowa Dog Warriors, spear holders, and archers quickly reunite with the night watch and gain ground. The Dog Warriors raise their shields to make one solid protected line. Kiowa arrows rain down upon the stragglers, and soon Gray Hawk feels the effects of his divided attack.

"Here I stand," Lone Wolf shouts, goading the straggling Cheyenne.

"I see you, coward! You hide in the grass like a snake. I will separate your head from your body! That is what we do to snakes!" Gray Hawk shouts, reuniting with twenty or so warriors to press onward.

"AH-HOE!" Lone Wolf screams.

"AH-HOE!" The warriors echo his war chant.

In a blur of the chaos, Gray Hawk leads his troop in a heated attack against the full force of the Kiowa.

The Cheyenne slam against Kiowa shields. On the first impact, the Kiowa stand strong. Lone Wolf orders the Dog Warriors to kneel, and when they do, the archers fire into the horde.

Some Cheyenne fall, but the warriors do not slow in their aggressive assault. They renew with vigor. They swing their weapons wildly and hurl their spears with fatal results.

Next Lone Wolf orders the Dog Warriors to step forward and stand. As they do so, the spearmen thrust at the Cheyenne, pushing them back. For the Cheyenne, the strategy is brutal aggression. They push against the shields, probing for the weakest point. When they see a Dog Warrior fall, they focus all of their efforts on the opening. Their hand-to-hand skill is much greater than Lone Wolf had expected.

For the Kiowa, the fight is tempered calm. They work together, shield men blocking the attack, archers taking shots where they can, and spearmen puncturing warriors who get too close to the line.

Most tribes would fall back when facing this kind of skilled warfare, but not the Cheyenne. Always pushing, thrusting, attacking, they are like the red ant of the Indian nation.

With eyes fixed on Gray Hawk, Lone Wolf seeks to change the tempo of the fight. He skillfully sifts through the warring crowd, ignoring the cries of pain around him. He moves with such swiftness no Cheyenne is prepared for his aggressive attack and none can repel him. For when he seems like he's coming straight, he turns at the last minute, bends low, and strikes a leg. Then he runs past and hits an arm. His intent is not to waste his energy fighting all the warriors, just wound as many as he can to get to the leader.

As the Dog Warriors disband and follow Lone Wolf, the spear warriors spread out and form a long reverse V-shape that protects the Kiowa flanks and keeps the archers safely in the middle. It isn't long before the Cheyenne realize they are actually fighting two enemies. One body of the Kiowa uses marksmanship and control. The other uses chaos and raging hand-to-hand combat.

In truth, bloodshed sickens Lone Wolf. He detests the brutality of it. He hates the sound bones make when the tomahawk strikes. He finds no joy in the maiming of limbs or disfiguring bodies. In fact, it all disgusts him. He detests the bitter rusty taste of human blood when it splashes in his mouth. The salty aroma causes him to gag, but he knows one single truth: If the Cheyenne weren't bleeding and dying, the Kiowa would be.

It is our right to defend ourselves. No living thing when attacked rolls over and dies. That clarity forces him to hack, chop, and slash through Cheyenne warriors until he finally reaches his destination.

"Your wife and children will be my slaves, Kiowa!" Gray Hawk whoops, pointing his blood-soaked tomahawk at Lone Wolf.

Lone Wolf sees images of Grass Woman, his wife, and feels his love for her fuel his rage. He reels back his weapon and ferociously swings at Gray Hawk's blood-drenched face.

 **To the reader:** Ever expect life to go one way and then it goes another. I suppose o'l Chief Black Bear felt that way. Oh I'd pay money to see his face right now. Any who, Christmas is right around the corner. Books make great gifts. You can find this book on Amazon where you can get the book/kindle. Simply search "Harvest Moon," by Zachary H. Lovelady. If you would like to see the story come to life, check instagram:harvestmoonofficial


	7. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Lone Wolf's elk blade narrowly misses Gray Hawk's throat. The young warrior dodges and feels the swoosh of Lone Wolf's crimson elk blade.

Gray Hawk's confidence grows. He swings his war club.

Lone Wolf defensively ducks down and swipes low at his opponent. Gray Hawk blocks. They aggressively lock weapons. Gray Hawk smiles a devilish grin, taunting Lone Wolf.

In response, the seasoned Kiowa warrior tilts his handle and smashes Gray Hawk's black-painted nose. The young man stumbles back and struggles through teary eyes to block Lone Wolf's assault. He feels a powerful gust as Lone Wolf slashes at his head but misses. Severed feathers from his headdress tickle his naked shoulders. Gray Hawk blunders his opportunity to counterattack and feels blood trickling down his lips. He regains his composure, holds his weapon up, and gets back in the fight.

Lone Wolf is thrown off-balance when his weapon fails to make contact. He feels a surge of rage. The assault he unleashes in a counterattack comes from years of experience and countless battles. Gray Hawk's inexperience shows as Lone Wolf presses the attack by swinging his elk blade, wildly striking high and low, putting the young warrior on the defense.

Gray Hawk does a sufficient job of blocking and maneuvering. The speed of the fight is a magnificent tornado of feathers and bronze muscle.

Gray Hawk strikes, and his weapon locks with Lone Wolf's. He feels the bone-rattling impact of the dense elk blade against his inferior tomahawk. His confidence wanes, yielding to exhaustion. He compensates by flexing his legs and boldly stepping forward to press the attack.

Gray Hawk sees the flash of Lone Wolf's war bonnet. This is the first sign that pain is coming. Next Gray Hawk feels the crack of Lone Wolf's weapon against his exposed shin. Gray Hawk falls to the ground. He clings to his leg, which is unnaturally bent backward. He screams in excruciating pain as he feels his splintered bone protruding from his skin. Blood spurts from the wound and stands out against the white paint on his leg. His high-pitched screams mock his earlier war cry. All traces of his courage and bravery are erased.

Like a master warrior artist, Lone Wolf paints his war with two distinct emotions: love and regret.

Safely surrounded by the cheering ravens, Chief Black Bear immediately feels his lust for power drain. He watches his hands rise in a futile attempt to stop Gray Hawk's attacker. Sheer terror manifests in the pit of Black Bear's stomach. A painful emotional hurricane swells inside the raiding chief.

"Save my son!" Black Bear shouts, releasing the Cheyenne reserve.

The reserve force follows the trampled trail left by the warriors before them.

The Kiowa cheer when they see that they've drawn out the rest of the Cheyenne warriors.

Gray Hawk cowers like a withered weed. He refuses to look up and see his doom. When the death blow he anticipates doesn't come, he can't help himself. His curiosity forces him to look up.

Oh, how death hangs in his eyes. No spark of mercy lingers in those halos, Gray Hawk thinks as Lone Wolf glares down at him. Behind the brutal Kiowa warrior, Boulder Arms emerges. He swings his tomahawk over his head and brings Dog Warriors to their knees.

Please, Boulder Arms, Gray Hawk prays. He closes his eyes and feels a surge of hope.

As Boulder Arms closes in on the unsuspecting Kiowa war chief, Dog Warriors surround him. The Dog Warriors go to work. They violently slash and smash any Cheyenne who would dare approach their great chief.

Gray Hawk slowly opens his eyes as three Kiowa warriors taunt Boulder Arms with spears. Boulder Arms fights bravely and kills one of the spearmen, but the other two are fast upon him. They stab him with their spears and draw their tomahawks. Gray Hawk's hope is dashed to pieces when he sees a tomahawk connect to Boulder Arm's pelvis.

"ARRRGGGHHH," Boulder Arms screams as his pelvic bone splits in two. He falls to his knees and drops his weapon. When he looks up, he sees those same hollow halos Gray Hawk saw. Lone Wolf's elbows lift high above his head. Boulder Arms raises his muscular arms to block the blow, but it's not enough. The elk blade severs his arm and makes a hollow crack against his skull, spilling his brains out of the side of his head. For a moment Lone Wolf can hear his thoughts; somehow he knows this man wished he had never joined the fight or even listened to the words that got him here, but it's too late for all that regret now. This is why Boulder Arms is the first victim of Lone Wolf's war brush, regret.

"No! Boulder Arms!" Gray Hawk shouts as he reaches for the twitching body and wails in a new kind of pain when the Cheyennes' strongest warrior joins an increasing number of lifeless casualties.

"Show me LOVE!" Lone Wolf shouts, focusing on the reserve.

"No, Father!" Gray Hawk shouts, no longer concerned for his own life.

"Father?" Lone Wolf sneers, fixated on the determined Cheyenne chief.

Gray Hawk looks around at the mangled bodies. The distant whooping cries of his cavalry bring him no peace.

"Release my spirit quickly, I beg you."

Lone Wolf grins broadly, focusing on the fast-approaching Cheyenne.

"Not quickly. Slowly." He rips Gray Hawk's war bonnet off and removes his scalping knife.

 **To the reader:** Thank you for taking the time to read Harvest Moon. I hope you are enjoying the story. If you would like to see the story come to life through pictures, check me out on Instagram: harvestmoonofficial. If you have a member of the family that is incredibly difficult to shop for, perhaps they might like this new American classic. You can get the book on Amazon, "Harvest Moon," by Zachary Lovelady.


	8. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

"No! Please, mercy!" Gray Hawk begs Lone Wolf, feeling the cold blade pressed against his scalp.

"Mercy? Did you not come here for my little woman? Our children? Our scalps?"

Gray Hawk's protests turn to screams as he feels searing pain all over his crown. In one fluid motion, Lone Wolf uses his knife to cut a line from the back of Gray Hawk's right ear, then circles around his forehead and stops behind the other ear. Gray Hawk resists, but it is of no use.

"Arrrrgggghhhh!" Gray Hawk shrieks.

With a quick jerking motion, his scalp makes the same noise as cracking grass roots when the sod is separated from soil. Blood gushes down his face.

Lone Wolf holds the bloody trophy high and shouts, "Many take on few, and few win!"

He waves the son's scalp at his enraged father.

"Eww. He scalped him while he was alive?" Kevin gags.

Charlie adjusts his waistband and growls. "Lone Wolf's favorite weapon was the shoulder blade of an elk. With this mighty club, he fought off fifty men and prepared to fight off fifty more," the scoutmaster says, swiping his hands back and forth.

"He killed a hundred bad guys? That's not nearly as many as Alexander the Great," John blurts out.

"Yup!" Charlie responds, gulping down his coffee. "But 'bad guys' is a funny phrase. These two tribes were bitter enemies, though neither really knew why. They just knew someone scalped so-and-so and that's what started it all."

"I wanna see a scalp," Luther says with a devilish grin.

Charlie grunts and ignores him.

"How'd Lone Wolf get to be so strong?" Zack asks.

"He learned to be strong by becoming a great Indian wrestler. For sport, he would sometimes seize the ankle of his enemy, pick 'em up with one arm, swing 'em around his head, and smash 'em against a tree or a rock. You know, whichever was closer."

Lone Wolf does not seize an enemy by the foot but by the heart.

Black Bear sees the gleam of his son's blood-soaked skull. He watches helplessly as his son looks up and reaches for him. Chief Black Bear immediately feels his lust for power fade. His courage, conviction, and conceit evaporate. He immediately charges the Dog Warriors.

"My son! My love! My heart! Your father comes for you!" Black Bear roars.

Black Bear's ambience grows bright and temporarily blinds Lone Wolf. The brilliance of his power forces everyone to cover their eyes and shield their faces.

Lone Wolf slowly and deliberately makes eye contact with his enemy. He immediately notices that one of Black Bear's eyes is blue and the other is brown.

Dark clouds roll in. They blanket a blue sky. Cracks of lightning ignite and touch down all around Chief Black Bear. Bodies of both tribes become conductors and convulse when electricity touches them. Their torsos shake violently as their eyes glow and blue flames flicker out of their mouths before their scorched bodies fall to the ground.

The earth begins to shake and split apart. Indians struggle to keep their balance. It's useless. The grinding earth opens up and swallows warriors of both tribes. Chief Black Bear lifts the Sun God's lance to the sky. He summons a single bolt of blue lightning. The fluid crackles from far across the sky and touches the glowing lance. Sparks explode off his body and splash across Lone Wolf's shield.

In an impossible instant, the Cheyenne chief's black-and-white-painted face splits down the middle. Something terrible within fights to get out.

 **To the reader:** I hope you are having as much fun reading the story as I had writing it. Please consider that I am an artist first. But as I am color blind, I cannot mix color. Nor can I draw. In fact, I'm terrible at the very nature of art. What I'm good at is words. They are my paints. Your mind is my tapestry. We are going to do great things you and me. If you would like to see the story come to life in the frozen picture, visit me on instagram: harvestmoonofficial If you want to buy a smashing christmas gift for someone, buy this new American classic on Amazon. You wil lfind both the kindle and book version.


	9. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Chief Black Bear's eyes flash yellow. Long black claws explode through from his fingertips.

Raven Claw proves the Dog Warrior traditionreputation. He summons all of his Kiowa courage and makes a last-ditch effort to attack. He lunges for a man, who is transitioning into a monster. Raven Claw is snatched up in a mighty bear hug. He gasps for breath and feels his ribs crack. Chief Black Bear opens his mangled mouth and roars with a beastly growl that scares Raven Claw to death.

"Kill him!" Lone Wolf commands everyone, hoping to unite both tribes in an attack against evil.

"Beware Chief Black Bear, him. His magic is too strong. Soon, his jaws will bite. His fangs will catch and his claws will cut," Fox Thoughts bemoans.

The survivors of both tribes flee for their lives.

Defying the warning, Lone Wolf strikes the disfigured face of Chief Black Bear. He may might as well be using his vital elk blade on a stone wall. All of his strength counts for nothing when he strikes the dense mass beneath flaking mortal flesh.

"I am death!" Lone Wolf screams in Black Bear's contorted face. He uses the handle of his weapon to strike Black Bear's drooping cheeks. They hang off Black Bear's face like melting wax. Lone Wolf ducks under Black Bear's swiping arm and then strikes again, ripping a portion of human flesh off the shoulder.

'This cannot be. No man can take that kind of a beating and still be standing. How can one Indian man hold all this magic?!' Lone Wolf thinks when he sees what's beneath. Instead of muscle and bone, it looks like moist black fur.

With a swift back swing, he slashes Chief Black Bear's throat wide open. The man should have fallen back and gurgled to his death, but instead, Chief Black Bear laughs in a deep, evil rumble. He presses his claws into the wound and starts ripping his own flesh. His muscular jugular elongates to the tone of his popping neck bones.

Lone Wolf cracks a smile, which confuses Black Bear.

"I welcome death," Lone Wolf says calmly, glaring at the beastly man. He readies his weapon and aims between Black Bear's glowing eyes.

Black Bear's moccasins split apart. Long shiny black claws protrude and curl over his foot. A tuft of black fur bursts out. The swell spreads up Black Bear's legs, which that reshape into boulder -like hips.

The Chief's chief's torso solidifies in mass three times what it was before. Follicle by follicle, black fur erects sprouts up his black back. The patches race across his stomach and thicken at his chest.

Lone Wolf readies his weapon and searches for a spot to attack just as Black Bear's arms explode into solid muscle, and then disappear into fur. The mystic Chief chief returns Lone Wolf's smile as his hands turn to paws and cover up the shiny black claws. Unable He is no longer able to hold the golden lance, and it falls to the earth.

Lone Wolf lunges forward, then leaps back when clawed at. Black Bear's speed has also increased.

'I cannot fall as easily as Raven Claw,' Lone Wolf thinks, checking the placement of Black Bear's feet. 'He will never let me steal the sun's power from him. No, he will kill me to quickly if I even try.'

The disfigured Chief chief tilts his head back and releases a fierce war cry that trails off into an angry bear growl. Lone Wolf sees two long white fangs poling poking out of a mouth that twists into a snout and distorts with bone- breaking pops. Two round bear ears spring up on top of his broad skull and wiggle back and forth, listening.

With the transformation now complete, Black Bear stands fifteen feet tall on his hindquarters and casts a shadow that touches Lone Wolf's moccasins.

Black Bear drops down on all four legs. He fixes his flaming yellow eyes on Lone Wolf and comes charging with a snarling, ferocious growl greater than the mighty grizzly bear. He closes the distance to Lone Wolf in mere seconds.

The Kiowa warrior stares blankly at the monstrosity before him. For the first time in his life, he sees a power he cannot fight, but it is a fight he cannot resist. He feels the weight of mortality lift off his shoulder, freeing him to be what he has always been:, a Lone lone Warriorwarrior. When his elk blade makes contact with Black Bear, it has no affecteffect. The strength and speed of the bear out matches him.

A safe distance away from the fight, Lone Wolf's brother Paw shouts out. , "Brother!" Pa shouts, a safe distance away from the fight. Paw feels deep Feeling regret for leaving his brother and, Pa's his love forces him to return. He knows he stands no chance against the beast, but his love for his brother is stronger than his fear. As he throws his tomahawk, he watches the beast bite down on Lone Wolf's clavicle. The blade sinks into Black Bear's back, but nothing changes. With great force, the angry bear persists in his attack.

Paw glances at his brother and feels a great sense of pride when he watches Lone Wolf struggle his right arm free and bury a steel bowie knife in Black Bear's side. The man- beast releases his bite and cries out in morbid pain as Lone Wolf pulls the knife out. Chief Black Bear is quick to repay Lone Wolf's defense with a long, powerful swipe across his chest. His claws rip the bone breast platebreastplate off and tear the black wolf emblem painted on Lone Wolf's chest. Blood flows over his red war paint and mixes in a way that is nearly impossible to see.

Lone Wolf doesn't scream, though the excruciating pain registers ion every nerve. Instead, he readies his knife and slashes Black Bear across the nose. The blade cuts deep and spews blood over Lone Wolf's face. Black Bear stumbles back and paws at his nose.

"FIGHT! FIGHT WITH ALL THE COURAGE IN YOUR HEART!" Lone Wolf commands his brother. He tries to lift his left arm, but the bite to his clavicle has rendered his arm useless.

Paw has an impossible hope that his brother stands a chance. Now he knows that the great Chief's chief's power will not protect him from harm. 'I must get in this fight,' he thinks as he quickly rushes for a spear. When he turns back around, his hope is dashed. Lone Wolf slashes at Black Bear's face and misses. He exposes his back. Black Bear seizes his opportunity to attack the Kiowa chief from behind. Lone Wolf receives many brutal blows before he loses strength and falls to his knees.

"THANK YOU FOR THIS LIFE, TAIME!" Lone Wolf shouts, unable to repel the ferocious attack.

Black Bear bites down hard on Lone Wolf's open wound and thrashes his burley head back and forth, severing Lone Wolf's shoulder. Though mere seconds have passed, Paw feels time stop. He sees the bear release his brother's mangled body, growl, circle, and attack.

A flicker of motion causes Paw to ready his spear. Two BearsTwo Moons has returned to help his father.

Paw looks down at his spear and up at his nephew. A single question surfaces in his mind. 'Do I join my brother in the spirit world today? My love for my brother compels me to rush Black Bear. But if I do this, my nephew will follow me to my doom..'

Paw looks at his young nephew and sees his brother's eyes. Though Two BearsTwo Moons's features are those of a young man's, he holds manly weapons and prepares to do the bidding of a man in a battle that his father has already lost.

Paw looks at his brother. He watches as Lone Wolf fights with the only weapon he has left, his bare fist.

Sorrow fills Paw's heart. He hears an eagle scream and looks up at the sky. The great white eagle has returned. It circles his brother.

Paw turns to his nephew, . "Don't attack him, Two BearsTwo Moons. He will use the love we have for your father against us. We will become regret."

Two BearsTwo Moons shouts, "Father, I am so proud of you! I am here. Your son is here. I see you, Father. Tell me what to do and I will do it." Lone Wolf flails his hand to keep his son back.

With his claws and fangs, Black Bear makes a failing attempt to scalp Lone Wolf.

'You put up a brave fight, brother. Soon, you will know no pain.' Pa tightens his fist around the useless spear handle. PawHe holds up his fist and extends his left arm. He raises his index and middle finger, then pulls his fingers behind his left ear and makes the sign of the Kiowa. 'Go in peace and walk on the wind.'

He isn't certain that his brother sees the gesture until Lone Wolf closes his fingers fist and makes the two-finger sign. But then, Lone Wolf does something else. With the last of his strength, he points. Paw looks to where he's pointing and then glances back at his brother.

When his brother's finger curls, Paw knows that the fight is close to over, though he mistakes' the sign for, "lLeave." He watches Black Bear's massive paws press down on Lone Wolf's skull. With several repeated crushing thrusts, the Kiowa Chief's chief's life comes to an end.

"Lone Wolf saved the entire tribe," Paw tells Two BearsTwo Moons.

"What was he pointing at?" Two BearsTwo Moons asks, readying a spear to attack Black Bear.

Paw traces the path of Lone Wolf's aim and sees the golden lance lying on the ground only a short distance from him. Now he understands.

 **A thoughtful note to the reader:** First, I would like to thank you... Yes you! Grazie, as we say in Italy. If you would like to see this wonderful story come to life, we have made a trailer you can find on insta gram: harvestmoonofficial

If you would like to buy the book, you may find it on Amazon "Harvest Moon," by Zachary H. Lovelady. Both the book and kindle are for sale. Please leave a review and from us here on the eastern coast of Italy, to you wherever you may be, Merry Christmas.


	10. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Paw sprints for the source of Chief Black Bear's power. He greedily snatches up the lance. Surprisingly, it feels light in his hands. But something strange happens when his fingers make contact. The magic goes to work and sends a warm sensation that overpowers all fear. Courage, hope, and happiness pass through him all at once and put him in a trance.

Blinded by carnal fury, Chief Black Bear persists his ravenous attack, even though his enemy is dead.

"We are hunters, are we not?" Two Moons asks his uncle Paw, bringing him back to reality.

Paw nods.

"There is a mighty big black bear!"

"This fight is more than a war. It is something dark and evil. Something that must be dealt with now! Let us kill the man-bear and wear his scalp!" Paw grins greedily. He takes the spear in one hand and holds the lance in the other. The warriors close in and witness a terribly gruesome scene. Black Bear is in frenzy.

"As long as I live, I swear with all the blood in my veins that either you or I will separate souls from bodies!" Paw pledges a blood oath.

The two Kiowa warriors sprint toward their enemy. "VENGEANCE!" they scream.

Their screams catch the evil man-bear's attention. Unlike any other animal, this bear seems to understand humans. He presses his angry brows together and stands up. Black Bear towers over the Kiowa warriors. Saliva and blood drip out of his terrifying jaws and drool down his chest.

With a quick sprint, the grizzly charges them. Two Moons puts a short distance between him and Paw so that the bear must decide which of them to attack. When he sees the bear advance toward Paw, Two Moons circles around the massive beast and thrusts his spear into Black Bear's side. The blade punches through his thick fur and spins the heaving monster around. He extends his claws and swipes for Two Moons.

Paw seizes the moment and stabs Black Bear in the hind leg with his spear, trying to sever his tendon.

Black Bear stands up on both legs. He releases an earth-shaking roar, which echoes off the trees and reverberates through the warriors' chests.

"Your roars have no effect on hearts full of courage. And I have your magic." Paw shouts, thrusting his spear in Black Bear's belly. The point of the spear doesn't break through his thick hide. From experience, Paw knows if he can wedge the handle into the earth, the weight of the bear will send the spear through his abdomen. That thought brings a smile to his face as he thrusts and prods, constantly taunting the man bear.

"Het ya! Het Ya! Your hide is your scalp and your scalp will be my trophy!" Paw shouts, tapping his spear to the ground. The bear defensively whips around and realizes the predicament he's in. He cannot attack both men at the same time, no matter how hard he tries. When he charges one, the other takes up his exposed flank and stabs him. At first, Black Bear seethes with rage. But eventually he shows signs of exhaustion. He knows it's only a matter of time before the spears strike true. To prevent a mortal wound, he breaks contact, tries to separate the Kiowa warriors, but finds himself back in the same trap over and over again.

Charlie acts like the bear, with his hands spread out like claws. He stands up and snarls, "RRRAAAAWWWRRR," baring his teeth.

He shifts to his normal instructive tone. "Kiowa are expert hunters. See, what they'd do is get the bear to stand up on his hind legs, and then they'd plant their spear in the ground, like this." He stomps the end of a pretend spear. "Then they'd place their foot on it, holding it at an angle. Eventually the bear would tire and come down on all fours, hopefully on the spear."

"Would that kill the bear?" John asks.

"If you catch it under the belly and have the courage to keep your foot on the spear handle as the bear falls towards you. Then it could punch right through him." Charlie thrusts his straight arm through his closed hand.

"What happens if you get real scared?" Kevin asks, shaking from the horror.

"Then Paw would have shared his brother's fate," Charlie answers macabrely.

Kevin gulps. "I would run!"

"That's 'cause you got nothin' but fear in your heart!" Luther taunts him, then whispers, "I'd run, but I'd stab you in the leg first."

"The bear would just end up eating both of you. Now listen up. I got bunches to tell."

Two Moons bravely places another strike in Black Bear's side, only this time he nearly gets through the ribs and to his lungs. Paw plants his spear and readies for Black Bear to fall on it. His elation turns to despair when Black Bear turns and runs into the forest. The two hunters give chase, releasing a war cry that makes the bear run faster.

 **To the reader:** Merry Christmas. Thank you so much for reading. Check us out on instagram: harvestmoonofficial

For a great holiday read, buy the book on Amazon or the kindle ;-)


	11. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

"Do not follow the devil into the night!" Paw bellows. "I am frightened that I will lose more of my precious family."

Two Moons stops at the edge of the forest and holds his position. They remain like this, hearing the heavy breathing of Black Bear for what seems an eternity.

"He hides in the shadows. He won't give up the fight."

Paw looks up at the sky and realizes why. "He's waiting for nightfall."

"Retrieve my father and I will guard you," Two Moons insists.

Paw wraps the golden lance in a buffalo hide. He ties a leather strap to it and slings it across his chest. He and Two Moons secure Lone Wolf's remains and mount two of the straggling horses, returning Lone Wolf's mangled remains to the village.

As they leave, Black Bear emerges from of the forest and stands erect on his hind legs. He lifts one paw up and down, waving good-bye.

"Why did they take his body?" John asks.

"Kiowa custom. They don't leave no man behind," Charlie answers.

"Did they go back for any of the other Kiowa?" Zack asks.

"Of course!" Charlie proudly proclaims.

"I wish were Chief Black Bear." Luther snickers, thinking about the power he could have.

"I wish I were Lone Wolf," Kevin says with a heavy sigh.

"None of that matters, boys. All that matters is that Injuns is real particular about how they prepare their dead."

The boys listen intently, completely focused on their scoutmaster.

"Paw and Two Moons weren't about to let wolves or coyotes dig up Lone Wolf. That would be disrespectful and against Indian law. Now, the way Indians bury their dead is different from how we do it. First, they make a cot out of tree branches and hoist their loved one up on top of a stretched-out buffalo blanket. Next, they use tall polls to hoist the body up in the air so nothing can get to it. Then they leave behind weapons, shields, magic pouches, and even a little food for the journey ahead. Finally they kill his horse, so he will have something to ride to the happy hunting grounds."

"They killed his horse?" Zack gasps in shock.

Charlie nods and then continues. "After the attack, the Kiowa traveled far from their southern lands for many weeks, until they finally reached the northern part of where Washington is today. Except it wasn't the Olympic peninsula then. It was just called the north land, where three rivers fork and feed into the 'everywhere waters.'"

"Which rivers?" Zack wonders.

"Let's see here…I believe it was the Sol Duc, the Calawah, and Bogachiel Rivers. I could be wrong though."

"What is 'everywhere water'?" Luther asks.

John slams his limp wrist into his chest. "That's the ocean, duh!"

Luther makes a sour face and sticks his tongue out.

"This was part of the Kiowa annual journey. During the rainy Washington winters, they would migrate down south, sometimes as far as Texas. When summer would get too hot, they'd move on back up to Washington. Year after year they would do this circuit." Charlie draws a large circle with his finger.

The Kiowa gather beneath a cloudy gray sky. Though the sky is dark, and the wind howls, Water Boy holds back his mighty tears. The tribe doesn't. Women release their death wails. The terrible shrieks and cries spread from one squaw to the next. They thrash their clothes and tear their hair out.

Two Moons drops a drumstick on his father's favorite drum. The dull beat and the high shrieked death rattles send the entire tribe into mournful sorrow. This ritual goes on for most of the day.

"His cunning and strength were unmatched," Paw bemoans.

"He saved our lives," Two Moons says, patting his younger brother.

"Remember the reward he has given us. His bravery brings tears to our eyes. His loss brings sorrow to our hearts," Onendah, the medicine man, crows.

Family members pass around Lone Wolf's scalping knife and cut themselves to remember him.

Paw cuts his chest deep across his heart.

Lone Wolf's body is perfectly wrapped in buffalo hides and tied to a makeshift plank. The plank is suspended high off the ground and decorated with his war bonnet, his weapons, and his magic pouch.

An elderly woman plays her flute while Two Moons lightly taps his drum. Onendah stretches his arms toward the heavens and opens his hands.

"Mount Storm Shadow and let him carry your spirit to the happy hunting grounds, where you will never starve or freeze and the sun will always shine. Follow the distant light to the place you have stored the horses you sacrificed and all the things you laid at the gods' feet. Move through these dark clouds of sorrow, till the darkness fades and the clouds turn white. This is where we will hold you, high in our hearts of happiness for the life you lived. Your life made our lives brighter, and for that we sing your name."

"Lone Wolf, our great warrior!" the tribe chants, swaying.

While they chant, Grass Woman, Lone Wolf's wife, rests her hand against a tree. She passes his scalping knife to her sister-in-law and looks away. Dancing Fawn takes the knife by the handle, then quickly slams the blade onto Grass Woman's pinkie finger and chops the digit in half.

"Arrrggghh!" the mourning widow screams. She holds her hand up and shouts, "This is how I will always remember you, Lone Wolf, my love! You were my great war chief. My greatest love. This tiny piece of me that you have taken with you is nothing compared to your death, which has taken all of my heart."

She wraps the wound, scoops up some ash from the fire, and scrubs her face black. Turning toward the sun, she howls, resuming the mourning wail.

While the tribe mourns, Onendah continues. "Father of the heavens and the earth calls you home. He sends the great white horse, Storm Shadow, to greet you. Go to him. Go to the great creator. Find peace in your new home and wait patiently for your little woman. Your sons. And, one day, your tribe. Till we meet again." Onendah finishes the prayer and lowers his hands. "Find peace."

A rush of wind picks up and nearly blows Lone Wolf's body over. His people stabilize the pine poles. Through the clouds, a single ray of light blasts out of the darkness and rests on Lone Wolf's wrapped body. Vapors rise off his mangled chest.

Only the medicine man, Onendah, can see the vapors take form. They ascend to the heavens and gather in the light. The medicine man shakes his rattling wand and releases Lone Wolf's spirit. Off in the great distance, he sees Lone Wolf's misty image for a brief moment, riding off on the spirit horse. Clouds re-cover the sun's single ray, and Lone Wolf's bright spirit disappears in the gloomy sky.

Paw mourns and laments till he collapses. When he has squeezed the last ounce of sorrow out of his heart, he is determined to fulfill his promise. On his way to deliver the golden lance to Onendah, he walks through the village.

"That is a good story you paint on the side of your tepee, Grass Woman," he compliments Lone Wolf's widow.

She turns and looks at him. Her hair is a matted, tangled mess and her eyes are wild. "Arrrggggh!" She screams, leaping into her tepee like a frog leaps into a pond.

Paw continues his stroll through the tight cluster of tepees. He admires the paintings on their sides.

Children in loincloths chase half-wolf dogs through the camp. Hunters drag an elk into camp from their morning hunt. Squaw go to work stripping its hide in preparation for turning it into clothes. He strolls through the village until he reaches the center, stopping outside Onendah's white tepee. With his fingers, he traces the yellow sun, the blue mountains, and the lightning bolts painted on the side of the tepee. In just a few images, he reads the story of the medicine man's life.

"Medicine man, may I enter?" Paw calls out, alerting Onendah to his presence.

"You aren't sick!"

A quizzical expression forms in Paw's calm, wide-set eyes. He tilts his square jaw to the side and presses his high brows together.

"No, I am not."

"You are sad?"

Paw takes a deep breath and sighs. "All of us are rich with sorrow."

"Take your brother's pants to the warm springs. Wash them. Soak in the springs for two days and then wear them. His legs will become yours. You will walk from your sorrow for many days until you learn to run from it. Once you have outrun your pain, you may take his legs off and walk on your own."

For the first time since his brother's death, Paw feels tinges of hope sprout inside him. His fingers drop from the painted images to the leather bag in his hands. He wonders if he should not keep the golden lance for himself. For it is all that is left of your brother, he thinks.

The temptation lasts only momentarily. From the depths of his mind, his brother's face surfaces. He sees Lone Wolf in his last battle. He sees his brother fall, witnesses his sacrifice, then sees him pointing to the golden lance.

It was all for this, Paw realizes, and I am not worthy of it.

 **A vital note to the reader:** I will be releasing 5 chapters a day until christmas. This is my gift to you, the devoted reader searching for the next new classic. If you find yourself insatiably wanting more, I invite you to visit Amazon where you will find the book under, "Harvest Moon" by Zachary Lovelady. If your mind hungers for imagery, visit our instagram: harvestmoonofficial


	12. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

"Onendah, I have a gift for you," Paw calls out.

"Leave it at the door. My eyes have seen much sorrow, and I wish to see no more of your face or anyone else's."

"I cannot leave it at the door."

"Why not?"

"Someone will take it!"

There's an excited rustling in the tent before the tepee's flap flips open. A dust cloud explodes in Paw's face.

"Gifts of worth are always welcome!" Onendah squints and deepens his sagging frown. He points down. "But your sorrow must remain at the door, with your filthy moccasins."

"But I like my moccasins. The beads were done by my wife before she died."

Onendah disappears into his tent, while Paw removes his beautifully beaded leather moccasins. Then Paw ducks down and enters the open hatch. His feet touch a soft rug comprised of rabbit, mink, and bear fur. He smacks his lips and detects the strong aroma of sage. A dull fire smolders in the center of the tepee, drying meat. It offers little light. Smoke swirls and spins out of the opening in the roof.

When his eyes adjust, Paw scans the walls of the medicine man's tepee and sees elaborate paintings of animals, people, and people-animals. Other paintings of the medicine man's greatest achievements litter the walls. The largest characters are of his deceased wife. A story forms. Paw can see how they met, where they were married under a bright moon, and the sons they had. He can tell how Onendah felt from the yellow circles in his heart in the earlier drawings, where at present there is no color in his heart. Just empty black circles where sons and a wife once had a place.

Paw turns his attention to the dream catchers hanging on the wall. He traces the woven twigs with his fingertip and admires the web-like features. Some of the dream-catchers have scalps tautly fixed in them. He wonders if the medicine man's power can actually hold the evil spirits in prison or if it draws them to the village in search of what has been taken from them.

Paw pokes at a pearl that's been dipped in silver. It symbolizes an Indian's worst nightmare, eternal internment. The jewel dangles from a string as fine as a spiderweb and hovers oddly in the center.

"Do you bless all of them equally?" Paw asks, wondering if the larger dream-catchers have more power than the smaller ones.

"I give them as much power as they need."

Paw sits down by the fire and crosses his legs. He sits in peace, waiting for a moment to tell Onendah what has transpired. He studies the gray-haired man's cracked face and wonders if his own hair will turn gray and if his face will crack like the mud. Everything about this man is art. His life. His medicine. Even his curses, Paw thinks to himself.

"I have seen things I think no man has seen before," Paw begins.

"As have I. Look upon my eyes. Do you not see the color of the sky instead of the earth?"

Paw focuses on the medicine man's hazy corn-blue eyes.

"It has not always been so. I once had the earth in my eyes as you." Onendah gently presses his thumbs to Paw's closed lids. "Many winters now, the wind has swept the earth from my eyes." He pulls his thumbs back. "Now my spirit is almost free." The old man folds his arms and leans back.

"I saw a Cheyenne chief transform into a bear."

Onendah bursts into mocking laughter. "What herb do you smoke in your pipe?"

Paw holds a straight face.

"I have seen and heard much in my lifetime, but I have never heard anything such as this. Tell me now, where can I find this herb?"

"I thought our minds would be one on this," Paw says. He slowly unwraps the golden lance. Breaks in the cloth release a soft amber glow.

Onendah gasps. "What is this?" His laughter is silenced.

An aura as powerful as the sun's light dismisses every shadow of doubt in the medicine man's mind. Onendah shields his eyes, and light emerges through the chimney hole.

Outside, the villagers circle Onendah's tepee. Braves whoop and women begin to chant prayers of praise for whatever spell allows Onendah to capture and hold the sun in his tepee.

"His power has grown!" Makes Trouble whispers to his sister, Kida. She nods, feeling the warmth of a beautifully woven blanket her mother wraps around her.

Kida's tender mother stands up, and stares in awe at the light blasting out of the tepee. "It must be a sign," Glances Then Glares mumbles.

"Of what?" Kida asks.

Her mother raises her hands in worship. "Only Onendah can know."

Inside the tepee, Onendah shouts at Paw, "Cover it up! The sun's power blinds me!"

Paw quickly wraps the golden lance and conceals its light. He's careful not to touch it. The warmth of the weapon is more powerful than a summer day and constantly tempts him to keep the mysterious power for himself.

"I brought it here because my brother wanted you to have it." Paw holds the wrapped weapon out with both hands, offering it to Onendah.

"What would I do with it?" Onendah places his hands beneath the wrap and accepts the gift.

"Whatever power it has, I know not. But of a few things, I am certain. The Cheyenne chief held this in his hands and repelled our arrows. It gave him power to change from a man into a bear."

Onendah pauses for a moment and thinks on the hard words Paw speaks.

"Before I answer you, I have something I need you to do," Onendah says.

"If I can do it, I will."

"I have seen in a vision that Lone Wolf's son is going to receive a demigod as a gift. I think it odd that you have shown me this power and I have had this vision."

"Very strange things are happening all at once," Paw agrees. "What is it you need?"

"I need you to go and catch a silver fox. Make sure you don't touch it. No one can touch it. Bring it back to me, and I will bless it with the lance and bind it to Lone Wolf's son. I have seen that the gods have some strange use for it."

"I have never seen a silver fox. Where would I even begin to look?" Paw questions.

"I would start in the forest or some stream. Everything must have water to live. Now, on this topic of shapeshifting. I have heard of Rugaroo, but I have never seen the shape-shifters with my own eyes." Onendah caresses the magic lance. He's mesmerized by its power. "It seems remarkably light for being crafted of gold."

"It was durable enough to fight off the man-bear," Paw informs him. He thinks for a moment. "Rugaroo are stories we tell our children to keep them frightened so they will not wander in the night. This is no fable. I speak true words."

Onendah's eyes shift from the lance to Paw. "When my medicine is not so weak from the vision I have just had, I will hold a counsel with our ancestors and see if this magic is a blessing or a curse. Thank you for bringing it to me. Is there anything else?"

"All that I ask is that you grant me its power of protection so that I may track down the man-bear and avenge my brother."

Onendah remains quiet. He studies the infinite depths of Paw's eyes. The dull fire illuminates the medicine man's leathery face. Paw holds his peace for some time, letting Onendah see what he cannot. Onendah eventually looks up to the sky, then back down at Paw. He carefully places the lance down, then lifts a stick with a hand fastened to the tip. Black feathers hang off each finger.

"Do you know what this is?" Onendah asks.

"It is a hand, attached to a stick, wrapped in deer skin. It has black feathers hanging off the fingers."

"Do you know whose hand?"

Paw shakes his head.

"It is my enemy's. The one who killed and scalped my wife and boys. He tried to reach with his magic into my soul and steal my life. But I would not let him. I used my knife to cut off his hand. Do you understand what I am saying to you?"

"I need more magic to defeat Chief Black Bear?"

Onendah sighs. "I see two paths." The medicine man swirls the wand above his head. "One is a slow, painful death. The other is a magnificent journey of life."

Paw buries his face in his hands. He sobs as he listens to the truth of Onendah's words.

"I have felt the darkness of death swirl like these black feathers. They turn into a storm as my thoughts have lingered on revenge," Paw confesses.

"What is in your heart?"

"Hatred as great as the everywhere water!"

"This is the dark path that will tease you with relief, but none will be found. Your enemies have set a trap for you and wait for you to return. The man-bear knows the death of Lone Wolf will stir such emotions. He will use your feelings to bait you. They will dangle the bait of hate in front of you. Not to kill you but to capture you, so that they may torture you for many days. They will drag your agony out until your body expires in hopes that you will confess the location of the golden lance."

"My heart screams for justice!"

"Justice?" Onendah says with a trailing chuckle. "Our conflict with the Cheyenne will never yield justice. Only death."

Tears well up in Paw's dark brown eyes. "The Cheyenne have taken my wife and daughter. Now they have taken my brother. What am I to do?"

"Listen."

Paw wipes the tears from his eyes.

"Like you, I have lost Indians I love. My wife's and sons' scalps fell to the Cheyenne. Replace hate with love if you can. Lone Wolf's wife is with child. That child will be walking soon. He will join the rabbit circle. I have seen in a dream that this child will walk on feet of hope and he will have all the strength of his father but none of the wisdom. You must teach him wisdom, and when this child is ready, I will grant the lance's power to him if I can understand it. For now, teach him the ways of the Kiowa. Show him how to think and not to follow the dangerous passions of his heart. Teach him our ways. Be his guardian. Bind to him as the roots bind to the earth and you will choose a path of life that is rich with love, joy, happiness, and one day, peace."

Paw laughs painfully at the thought of peace.

Onendah presses his cold hand to Paw's heart. "I know the stones of hatred cover your ears and make it hard to hear these things. I know your wounds are fresh and deep. You must know, brother of Lone Wolf, these wounds will heal." He looks down for a moment. His hand drops to his side. He shrugs and finishes with, "The Cheyennes' won't."

Onendah's vision proves true. With death in summer comes life in spring. Grass Woman, Lone Wolf's widow, gives birth to his third and final son.

The entire tribe turns out for the baby's ceremony. The medicine man uses ash to trace the image of a sprinting wolf across his chest. The people cheer and chant, "Though Lone Wolf is gone, his spirit lives on!"

A thought cracks in the medicine man's mind. Onendah etches a thunderbolt on the calm baby's forehead. The tribe gladly welcomes Lone Wolf's gift.

"What is his name?"

 **To the reader:** You may be tempted to skip around, but I wove this story so tight, you won't want to miss a detail. I hope you're enjoying this escape. If you can't wait for the next chapters on the pleasure read, bounce over to Amazon. "Harvest Moon," by Zachary Lovelady. If you would like to see this story come to life, check me out on instagram. Harvestmoonofficial


	13. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

"I have no name for him," Grass Woman cries.

She struggles to hold the child up so that the tribe may see their newest member.

"Children should not be born in sorrow, and yet my heart is full of great sorrow," Grass Woman says, wiping tears from her eyes.

Onendah's face wrinkles into a sour expression, which makes the baby laugh.

"Do not name him 'Heart Full of Great Sorrow'!"

Grass Woman manages a laugh. "I would never."

Several weeks pass, and her tribal sisters begin to grow weary. They visit Grass Woman's tepee. Her voice is coarse from calling Lone Wolf's name over and over. The women complain that she's cried too much and sounds like a dove.

"I like the name Soaring Eagle."

"I don't. I like Thunderbolt," Blooming Flower, a young girl, says.

The women wrinkle their faces and shake their heads.

"That is a terrible name," Glances Then Glares says.

Yellow Sparrow shrugs. "A name is a name."

"No!" Grass Woman protests. "A name is everything!"

"If it is so important, then name him Lone Wolf!" Yellow Sparrow counters.

"Oh, I cannot do that," Grass Woman protests.

"Why not? It is a good name!" Blooming Flower encourages.

"He must earn that name. Everyone knows that!" Glances Then Glares chides her.

"Let's see. He has the love of his people. I can certainly see that," Grass Woman says. "And his father was a great warrior." She pauses for a moment, then feels the word form and slip from her lips. "K-i-o-w-a."

The women search one another's expressions as they repeat the name.

"Kiowa."

"I think I shall call my brave little man Kiowa!"

"That's a wonderful name!" Glances Then Glares compliments Grass Woman, squeezing her shoulder in approval.

"The people will embrace him, and he will embrace his people!" Grass Woman says, pressing Kiowa's soft, warm body to her chest.

For two springs, Paw scours the earth in search of a silver fox. Though he unearths many foxholes, he never finds what he's looking for.

Perhaps I am approaching this wrong. Maybe I should ask my brother to guide me. He kneels down and lowers his lips to the earth. "Brother, if you can hear me, lead me to this demigod. I am tired of searching and am ready to give up."

No sooner has he finished his prayer than he feels a strong energy in his legs. It is a strength he has never felt before. His muscles want to run, so Paw cuts them loose and lets them go. He sprints through grassy meadows, across streams, and high up steep mountains. When his legs tire, he sits down, realizing he has run all day and past the night. Now the sun sends her daughters to dance fresh light across foggy mountaintops.

"Oh, how you have played a dirty trick on me, brother. Or perhaps it is some cruel Cheyenne medicine man's spell," Paw complains while he rubs his sore feet.

He looks around, finding a direction that he knows will lead him back to his village.

"At least I gave it my best effort." He stands up and bends down at the waist to tighten his moccasins.

Right next to his foot, he spots a tiny fox footprint.

I see now that my eyes cannot be trusted over my pants. Lead my feet on, brother.

He follows the trail, keeping himself concealed in case he should scare the demigod. As he goes, he sees that the tracks lead to a den.

No demigod would be trapped so easily. If I dig, I might scare it, and I do not have the strength to chase it.

His stomach growls.

I do not have the strength to think.

He moves away from the den and makes a crude spear. After killing a rabbit, he builds a fire and roasts his breakfast in manageable chunks of meat.

When he's finished, he finds a stream and drinks until he's full. Now I can think, but I have the same problem as before. How do I trap a demigod?

When he returns to his fire, he spots a bushy tail with a red and black tip and a fresh set of prints.

You trap it by following its trail and feeding it.

Paw kills anything he can get his hands on. His bounty by midday includes a two squirrels and another rabbit. He sets the bodies down outside the opening of the den and hides behind a rock.

As the day wanes on, his patience pays off. A red fox pokes its head out of the hole and spots the offerings. Rather than rush out and snatch the kill, the fox decides to wait. Listen. Look. Smell. At twilight, it comes out and snatches up the squirrel, then disappears.

I know your fox thoughts. Paw squints and thinks, You are thinking that no living thing discards meat for free. And you are right. These are gifts. So show me what my brother has led me here to see.

The fox comes out almost upon request and snatches up another squirrel. When it comes back for the bunny, a litter of cubs slips out through the opening of the cave.

Ah, so you are a hungry mother.

Trapped between getting her cubs back inside the den and carrying home the bunny, she decides to drop dinner and take care of the babies.

"Oh, you are a good mother," Paw whispers to himself. "But why am I here? I do not see a silver fox…"

As mother gets her cubs back inside her den, one cub comes prancing out and yelps. Its silver fur nearly makes Paw's eyes leap out of his head. His mother quickly returns, catches her sacred treasure, and pulls him back into the safety of the den.

The sun sets and stars appear.

Paw withdraws to his campfire and thinks, How am I going to catch a silver fox without touching it?

He thinks and thinks and thinks himself to exhaustion.

I know from experience not to show myself or let the mother fox catch my scent. Ah-hoe, if she does, I will be digging for days in one hole, while she and her cubs slip out some other hole.

Paw folds his legs and thinks. No, the fox is clever. I must be cleverer than she.

Lost in thought, he repeatedly stabs a stick into the ground and inadvertently digs a hole.

I must dig a hole while the fox is sleeping, and I must do it tonight.

With that, Paw creeps as close as he can to the mouth of the den and carefully digs a hole. He uses rocks and sticks to carve out one handful of dirt at a time, patiently using the least amount of force as possible, for he does not want to startle the mother and make her think someone is coming for her precious silver baby.

By the next morning Paw has successfully dug a hole deep enough to hide himself. He quickly spears some fish from the stream and lays the gifts out like he did the day before. With branches and leaves, he covers himself up to match his surroundings.

Now all I need to do is stay awake.

When the mother comes out the first time, it is as before. No cubs come with her. When she comes a second time, they do what youth do – scurry away. By the third gift, the silver fox cub has appeared. His curiosity has caused him to see what brother and sister were getting that he wasn't. Cautiously, the silver fox stumbles along and then stops. The cub turns its head to the side when it sees a rise in the earth it hadn't seen before. Paw remains as still as his trembling muscles will let him. It is then that the silver fox flashes its emerald eyes at Paw.

Paw freezes. Does he know what I am about to do?

 **A careful note for the attentive reader:** This story builds. Go ont to the next chapter to understand why the silver fox is a demigod. If you find yourself wanting to dive into this pleasure read, hop over to Amazon. Type in "Harvest Moon," by Zachary Lovelady. You'll find both the book & kindle read. If you would like to see the story come alive through the still image, check out instagram: harvestmoonofficial


	14. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Feeling more secure with the gifts, the mother fox lets the pups wander while she enjoys the meal. It would prove to be her fatal mistake. Paw watches the pups stumble this way and that. Each one scatters in a different direction. He tries to control them by throwing out little chunks of meat. They take the bait and move closer to him. He's happy to see the pups draw nearer. The demigod follows the bravest pup. Once it has come within reach, Paw carefully moves his cover out of the way. The answer to his problem, a crude basket made from twigs, slams down over the demigod.

At first Paw thinks he hurt his prize. The pup lets out such a dreadful cry that he makes Paw wonder if he's damaged the demigod in some way. He leans down and lifts the rim just enough to see that the demigod is okay. With a broad smile, he shows his teeth and terrifies the pup. It yelps even louder.

Who should respond but the brave mother. With snarling fangs and wild, worried eyes that say, Mine, the red mother fox explodes out of her den.

"Stay back, Mother!" the Indian tracker shouts.

She circles around him with such a dreadful look of concern he can't help but mock her.

"Ha! Ha! You, the cleverest animal of the woods, have been beaten at your own sly game. I see you putting together some plan to hurt me and take back your treasure. It won't work. He's mine!"

The mother fox scolds him with harsh chirps and reveals fangs as she steps forward and then leaps back.

"Do not worry, Mother. I am not here for them. Just this one!" Paw says while he slips twigs beneath the basket and makes a hasty lid.

Mother Fox doesn't wait to see what happens next. She snatches whatever babies she can and hides them in the cave.

Paw is so impressed with her speed and determination, he wonders if it isn't wrong to separate a child from its mother this way. Before he can finish this thought, his legs burn and rejuvenate with a newfound energy.

"There it is, Mother Fox. You keep your other little babies but I keep your greatest treasure! You also keep your hide, even though I think it would make a fine hat."

He sticks his tongue out at her and runs away.

Ten springs pass. Paw is now thirty-seven and Kiowa is half his height. A full-grown silver fox follows him and seems like an extension of his soul.

"You look like your father," Paw says, ruffling the boy's hair with one hand while he holds a platter of paint in the other.

"Sadly, you must go through the lessons of the rabbit before you become…"

"Become what, Uncle?" Kiowa looks up with large, round nut-brown eyes.

"Well, many moons will tell. You will have a vision, and in that vision you will see an animal. That will be your spirit and the source of your magic. Until then you are a rabbit."

"I don't like being a rabbit, Uncle. They are stupid and weak. I want to be a fox like my demigod, Moon Beam."

"Rabbits have a good life. You paint your face. You dance all day. You play games. You eat plenty. Seems like a grand old time to me."

"Yeah, I guess so. How many moons till I turn into my spirit animal?"

"Well, let's see. If it were one moon, I would say one moon from now. If it were two…"

"You would say two!"

Paw holds up all ten fingers. He flashes them repeatedly. "Many moons is this many."

"Ah-hoe, Uncle. That is a long time to be a rabbit."

Circling all around them, the silver fox inspects everything Paw does with the greatest curiosity. His emerald eyes reveal an endless silent inquiry.

Paw smiles and lifts his open hand. "Press your hand against mine."

Kiowa grins and bares his bright white teeth.

"See there, your hands are almost as big as mine. Now let me see your foot."

Kiowa hops and then sticks a foot out.

Paw swings around him and puts his foot next to his. "Ah, just as I suspected. In a few winters, your foot will be as long as mine."

"So?!" Kiowa says, sticking his tongue out and hopping away.

"So we haven't much time to teach you all that must be learned."

"Well, if I am a rabbit"—the boy hops up and down in buckskin pants and wiggles his hips—"then I hear, I smell, I shake my tail, and I hop away."

Paw laughs at his cute nephew. "All these things are true, but you must always remember that we are artists before anything else."

"Even before we are warriors?"

"Yes. Even before we are warriors," Paw says, dipping his thumbs in white paint. He presses them against the bridge of Kiowa's nose and streaks them down to the corners of his mouth.

"Why do we paint?" Kiowa asks in a soft voice.

"We paint our sacred symbols on our faces," Paw says, making paw prints on his face. "We paint our horses and our tepees so that our magic will protect us."

"Do I have magic?"

Paw nods. He waves his hands over the earth and says, "Everything has magic."

"If I have magic, can I use it against you?"

Paw rests his hands on his hips and sighs. "First I will teach you how to start fires with flint, carve arrow shafts with your knife, make arrowheads out of the white man's metals, sew moccasins, make face paint, ride horses, and wrestle. But none of these things will be as important as the art you make."

"I am eager to learn magic, Uncle!" Kiowa says with a big bright smile.

Paw smiles. "We will get there, but first"—he dips his thumb in red paint and traces it up Kiowa's right arm—"I will teach you of your father, Lone Wolf, and the great love he had for all of us…" He reaches the nook of Kiowa's arm. "The love he had for your mother…" He reaches Kiowa's armpit, then slides the red trail across his shoulder and makes a giant circle on the boy's heart. "And the love he has for you."

"I want to hear all the stories."

"One night at a time I will teach you."

One such night, Paw brings Lone Wolf's war bonnet and recounts with admiration the battles he won. He tells in great detail all of the things he saw. Kiowa laughs and sometimes cries. Paw's words swirl around Kiowa's ear canals and bring Lone Wolf's spirit to life in his mind.

"And that is how Fire Boy and Water Boy created all the stars." He looks at his nephew who seems lost. "Why do you get lost in the starry sky?" Paw asks at the end of his story.

"Me and Moon Beam wonder."

"I am more worried about you listening to these lessons I am trying to teach you, but to satisfy my curiosity, what is it you wonder?"

"I cannot say, because I do not know the words."

What Paw couldn't know, through the long campfire nights, was how close Kiowa feels to his father when he looks up at the starry sky. Though the boy isn't sure why, he howls. Paw finds the boy's high-pitched call so inviting that he joins in. As the two carry on, Moon Beam tilts his head this way and that, trying to make sense of all that his beautiful eyes see.

Over many moon-filled nights, the two got very good at the practice of howling. On more than one occasion they would trigger a roaming wolf pack, sending Moon Beam off to the tepee, where he would linger in the open doorway and tremble. This became a game for them, and it was always their intent to trick Moon Beam.

When the time has come for Kiowa to build his first bow, Paw leads him to the oak tree where he and Lone Wolf had found sturdy branches to build their first bows.

"We start with a branch that speaks to you, and then we use this." He holds out a rusty knife with a sharp blade. "With one skillful scrape after another, we will bring the spirit out and unite it with your body."

"How long will it take?"

"It does not matter how many moons. All that matters is that we find the right branch and make the right bow."

Within weeks, Paw has helped Kiowa carve his first bow. He tears a strip of deer leather from his pants and makes a sturdy grip.

"You have done well. Now we will use the sinew and tendon of the buffalo to make a string."

"When will I kill my first buffalo?"

"After you kill your first elk."

"When will I kill my first elk?"

"After you kill many bucks."

"And when will I do that, Uncle?"

"After you have killed many antelope."

Kiowa counts all the layers of the hunt and feels overwhelmed.

"But first you must kill rabbits. I bless you that when you aim with this bow, you aim with your father's hands."

Paw takes his knife and carves out finger grooves much too big for the boy's fingers.

"Now you have a hole in your pants, Uncle, and they are very worn."

"The pants I wear are your father's."

"How long will you wear my father's pants?"

"Onendah says his legs carry me. So I will wear them until I don't need his legs."

Kiowa looks from Paw's pants to his little dusty britches. "Do his legs carry me?"

Paw smiles and nods.

"But I don't have his pants. How can I be carried by his legs without his pants?"

Paw chuckles, then runs his fingers through Kiowa's long hair.

"Your legs are his legs. Now go hunt rabbits and squirrels. When you have killed enough to make a quiver for your arrows, we will make stronger arrows and hunt deer," Paw says, stringing the bow. He hands Kiowa the weapon.

"I will make you and Father proud!" Kiowa says, beaming. He wipes his nose, smearing his paint so that it now looks like he has a white mustache.

Paw licks his finger and wipes it off so that the other boys won't make a new name for him.

"Remember to aim where they are going to be, not where they are," Paw counsels.

Kiowa nods with great enthusiasm. He sprints off to the same forests his father hunted in, stalking his prey in a very patient manner. He imagines how his father may have learned to hunt and pretends to be him.

On his own, the noises of the forest intimidate him, but they also make him very curious. To calm himself, he identifies what he hears.

Raven's caw. Sparrow's chirp. Chipmunk's bark. Squirrel's squeak. I'm only in danger when everything is silent.

He sees a squirrel climb a tree so fast that by the time he takes aim, it's spun all the way around the tree three times and disappears in an explosion of pine needles. His eyebrows press together in disappointment, forcing a dissatisfied frown.

"That went differently in my mind." He humphs.

Moon Beam stares at him and seems ready to pounce at the right word.

"No, Moon Beam. You wouldn't understand. This is something I must do on my own."

With a deep breath, Kiowa breathes in the crisp pine air, and then blows all his discouragement out at once. I am tired and that is why I am slow, he realizes, then leaves the forest and decides to scour the open grass for rabbits.

Out in a grassy field, near the village, Kiowa spots a tall cottontail. He nocks an arrow and watches its gray body move slowly at first, but then the rabbit gets excited and darts around before stopping. It seems to study him as much he studies it.

"You are cute and soft and I do not want to harm you, but I am hungry and I need to hunt deer, so you must die!"

 **A kind note for you, the reader:** Have you ever had to do something terribly hard? Something you didn't want to do? What drove you to do it? Leave a comment in the review. I'm incredibly curious. Also, I'm sure you know by now that it is Christmas. You might need to buy a Christmas present for someone you love. If that's so, bounce over to Amazon. Search for "Harvest Moon," By Zachary Lovelady. And feel free to check us out on instagram: harvestmoonofficial


	15. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

The bunny raises its long pointy ears and bravely stands on its hindquarters. It looks at the silver fox and cocks its head to the side. Moon Beam does the same. The rabbit rotates its head back and forth, checking Kiowa out with both eyes. Its soft pink nose rises and falls, and it reveals its long, pointy teeth. It licks both paws, then bathes its ears by bringing them down one at a time.

"You are brave," Kiowa says, drawing the bow back. He bites down on his tongue and squints one eye so tight that it puckers his face. As he's about to release the arrow, he stops and slowly relieves the tension. "It is wrong to kill you while you clean yourself. I will go and find another bunny."

He decides that if he must kill, he will strike a rabbit that is not so cute and not in the middle of its busy day. He eventually notices a fat rabbit whose belly and chest are white. He draws his arrow and aims.

Enthusiasm swells in his chest as he sees how stationary his prey remains, versus the squirrels that move as fast as lightning.

Aiming at the center of the rabbit, Kiowa releases his arrow and watches it fly toward his target. His devotion builds at the thought of striking the bunny in its furry heart. He imagines the accolades when the tribe sees his first kill.

But then the thought of hurting the bunny causes his heart to ache. Almost at the same time the arrow deviates off course, striking the ground just a few feet in front of the rabbit. It splits from the arrowhead and snaps the shaft on impact. Now mixed emotions of sympathy and anger compete for expression.

"Arrgghh!" he growls, nocking another arrow.

The rabbit continues to graze and completely ignores him.

"This time I will be quick, and you will be dead!"

As he releases an arrow, a voice interrupts his concentration.

"You are the great warrior that will embrace this people?" Kida sighs. The chubby girl looks more like an Eskimo than a Kiowa squaw. She shakes her puffy cheeks back and forth in disbelief. Her long braids flap against her fringed deerskin dress. She wraps her fingers around a carved turtle-shell necklace, made of turquoise, with two pearls pressed on either side.

Kiowa looks at the bow and arrow in her hand and laughs.

"You're just a stupid girl! Go be a stupid girl with the other stupid girls! I am learning to become a great hunter!"

"Is that so?" Kida asks haughtily.

Kiowa folds his arms and stomps his foot as he's seen the bull buffalo do. Moon Beam moves over and sits beside him.

"Let me pet your fox friend and I will teach you how to aim."

"NEVER, KIDA!"

"Why?"

"Because he is pure and you are tainted. You will ruin him!"

She squats down and smiles at Moon Beam. "But he's so cute! Come to me, Moon Beam. I will rock you in these arms and shower you with kisses."

"Leave him alone, stupid girl! You can't do anything right!"

"I can aim!" Kida stands up. She draws her arrow and releases it with accurate swiftness. She moves so fast it doesn't even appear that she takes aim. The arrow soars past Kiowa and strikes his target in the center of its chest. The rabbit falls over and kicks its hind legs violently. Blood mars its beautiful white fur. It squeals, thrashes, and does its best to get away.

Kiowa winces. Moon Beam flattens his ears. For a moment sympathy overtakes his anger. That was my friend. See how you ruin everything, Kida? Kiowa thinks, but he dares not say.

Kida struts past him and collects her prize. She puts her hand on his shoulder and shakes her head again. Kiowa takes note how her braids seem to emphasize her deep disappointment.

"He was eating. I was going to wait for him to finish."

"I am greatly concerned for the safety of our people," she says, then walks back toward the village.

Kiowa tosses his bow in frustration.

"Teach me how to aim, Kida!" he shouts.

"How can I? Stupid girls mustn't mingle with stupid boys. They will make stupid children, and then where will the tribe be?" She holds the rabbit by its foot. She does her best to keep the blood from dripping on her ornately beaded dress.

Frustrated with his inadequacies, Kiowa returns home and grabs his fishing spear. He sprints off to the fishing spring, where he knows he will find success—and his good friend Makes Trouble.

Certainly I will fare better in good company, he thinks, brushing Kida's bad medicine off his shoulder.

Moon Beam huffs, casting her bad magic off himself, too.

Along the banks of a fishing hole, a wild-looking, scraggly boy crouches in the shadows of a boulder. He makes every effort to conceal himself from fish that surface to swallow lazy, resting bugs.

"I thought I would find you here," Kiowa shouts.

The boy holds his finger up to his lips and whispers, "My father wanted me to gather wood and help collect berries."

Kiowa whispers back, "You had better do what he says or he will punish you again."

"I keep telling him my spirit is as free as the wind. Who can control the wind? I just land where my feet carry me. Besides, I am his only son. My seven sisters are perfectly capable of gathering wood and picking berries. My job is to be a great hunter."

"Have you caught anything?"

"Just ugly water bugs with big pinchers."

"Well, we can use them as bait."

Makes Trouble shrugs. "I guess so."

Kiowa spots the gray back of a rainbow trout gently swimming along the bank. He lifts his spear and aims just a little in front of its nose. "I don't think he will see it your way." Kiowa hurls his spear. It splashes through the water, striking the fish just behind the gills. Its tail flips up, the sudden commotion mixing blood and soot.

"Grab your spear before it fights off!" Makes Trouble warns.

Kiowa lunges into the water and grabs the spear with both hands. The thrill of the tugging handle forces him to push down hard, pinning the fish. Moon Beam watches from the banks. He prances up and down, chattering with excitement.

Kiowa snatches the fish by the tail, then scoops it out of the water. Moon Beam sniffs and licks its lips. It's as long as his forearm and as wide as his head.

"That's a good size. One day I hope to fish as well as you, Kiowa."

"How long have you been out here making trouble?"

"All day."

"Maybe you should take the fish. Your father will be less angry with you when you return with a catch. Your sister Kida just killed a rabbit."

"Oh, then we will have enough. You should take the fish to your mother. Besides, I won't take what I did not catch."

The boys spend the rest of the day fishing and talking about their favorite weapons. Kiowa tells Makes Trouble stories of his father. The boys act out the scenes with Kiowa playing his father and his friend playing the part of the dying, treacherous enemy.

When the sun sets, they return home.

"I wish every day could be like this."

"Me too, Makes Trouble."

"MAKES TROUBLE!"

Makes Trouble's courage evaporates when he hears the sound of his father's angry voice. His shoulders slump and his head hangs low.

"I didn't realize we were so close to my tepee."

His sisters stand in a straight line, from tallest to shortest. They each hold a switch.

"Your sisters have had to carry your weight once again. Unless that fish in Kiowa's hands is yours, you have to pay the price for your windy feet."

Kiowa offers his friend the fish, but the proud, wild boy holds up his palm and refuses to take it.

"Keep it. I have a plan."

"What is your plan?"

"The wind is my friend."

"What does this mean?"

"I'm going to run…"

 **A Note for your benefit:** Wouldn't it be terrible to be slaughtered? It would be even worse to be slaughtered before you could finish your last meal. Doesn't Kiowa have a sweet heart? Well, keep in mind he's a boy. Soon to be a man. I wonder if that heart will stay sweet after his first battle. Hmm... Well if you don't want to sit around and weight for the next chapters, jump onto Amazon and type in "Harvest Moon," by Zachary Lovelady. You can get the book/kindle. Also check out instagram. You'll find a movie trailer we put together.


	16. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

Before Makes Trouble can get away, his mother comes around the corner and catches the swift boy by the arm. She hits him with a switch several times.

"If you are the wind, then why can I catch you by your lazy arm? I am your creator. If you think you are of the wind, who do you think gave you that gift?" Glances Then Glares scolds him, hitting him between sentences.

The sisters all join in, cursing the naughty boy for abandoning them and making them double their work.

Makes Trouble winces from the force of the attack. He proudly fights back tears.

Kida swings her switch the hardest. The tip strikes bare skin and instantly leaves pink welts on her brother's chest. The boy can't help but howl in agony.

"How dare you take advantage of our kindness? You know it is in our nature to be so. You are a cruel, wretched boy to take advantage of our sweet nature and use it selfishly for idleness! Especially when you come home with nothing to show for your laziness!"

Her scolding words leave welts on his heart and bring tears of shame to his eyes.

"Forgive me, sisters!"

They ignore him and extract their ounce of justice.

You certainly are of the wind, Makes Trouble. Your cries sound like wailing willows, Kiowa thinks.

Not wanting to share in Makes Trouble's punishment, Kiowa slings his fish over his shoulder and calls for Moon Beam. For one reason or another, the silver fox does not budge. He looks down and looks up. Over and over he does this until he has Kiowa's attention.

"What is it?" Kiowa asks.

The demigod puts its foot on something as if to say, I am playing a game. Can you guess what is beneath my paw?

Kiowa walks over and sweeps the fox's paw out of the way and finds the most beautiful crystal.

"Is this a gift, Moon Beam?"

The fox rubs itself along his legs as a cat might.

"Is it magic?"

The fox seems to nod.

When Kiowa gets to his tepee, he can still hear Makes Trouble's cries. Kiowa is relieved that not a single switch made contact with his skin. He concludes that these events are a sign. He shows his mother and uncle the source of his protective magic, to which his mother tells him, "If it is true magic, then you must paint it with our sacred symbols and put it in a protective pouch, which Onendah will bless at the next sun dance."

Kiowa obeys her. He paints yellow zigzag lines and black circles on the stone. Then he puts it in a leather pouch he made and ties it to his belt.

"What else does my magic do for me, Moon Beam?"

The silver fox yawns, curls up in a ball, and falls fast asleep.

As time passes, Kiowa's skill increases with his bow. He spends many hours with Paw, learning how to inhale, hold his breath, aim at his target, then release when his muscles are relaxed. His trusty friend Moon Beam has learned to retrieve meat for him. More and more, the tribe believes in the truth of the fine animal's divinity. The fox grows to full stature but never ages one day beyond adulthood.

Before long Kiowa hits whatever he aims at: rabbits and other ground animals, birds, and reptiles. He gains confidence with each kill and even works up the nerve to hunt squirrels. After a winter, a spring, and almost an entire summer, he learns how to track their movements. Soon his uncle's words make sense. He can almost predict where his target is going to be. Even if he isn't successful, he learns something new each time. With each hunt he grows more confident. He eats more meat. And wears more skins.

Over time, Paw watches the boy turn into a young man, evidenced by the bulge in his throat, the crackle in his voice, and the traces of budding muscles. When the fall comes, it is time to take Kiowa on his first deer hunt.

"You will have to learn how to shoot while you ride," Paw informs his nephew.

The thought of riding and aiming seems impossible. Though he has seen it done dozens of times, he hasn't mastered it.

For the last year, he's gone with the warriors on their great buffalo hunts. Of course he wasn't allowed to do anything except carry arrows and ride a black mustang his uncle gave him, but it made him feel closer to being what he was destined to become.

Paw never speaks to Kiowa authoritatively and he has never struck him with his hand. He always presented options and tried to teach him to see advantages and disadvantages before forming a plan.

"Deer graze in the morning. We must either sleep in the cold grass and shiver all night or sleep in the comfort of our tepees and make our way down the pasture before dawn. Which do you prefer?" Paw asks.

Kiowa pauses thoughtfully. "Which would you prefer?"

Paw flicks him on the forehead. Kiowa retracts from the impact and rubs his forehead with his open palm.

"Aw, why did you do that?"

"You must think for yourself. Make your own plan and do not be influenced by others. And if you can, keep your plan to yourself before sharing it with anyone, lest they steal it from you."

Kiowa rubs the sore spot again. "Which will guarantee a kill?"

"Neither."

Growing frustrated, he draws a deep breath and grumbles, "Which path will offer the advantage?"

"Which do you think?"

"I think if we sleep out here beneath the stars, I will want to go home until the sun rises. If I stay here, I will be here when the deer graze and I will make no noise. If they show up at all, I will be prepared for them."

"And if you seek comfort?"

"Then I will make a great deal of noise when I come down in the morning, and if any deer are in this field, they will probably sprint off as the squirrels do when they hear me move in the forest."

"So, which path is best?" Paw asks, plucking the string of Kiowa's bow to test its tautness.

"I will freeze in the grass. Struggle with my desire to rest in my warm bed, and hope the deer appear in the morning."

Paw takes Kiowa's bow and carves a snake symbol in it. "And if they don't?"

Kiowa feels a frisson of frustration surge from the pit of his stomach. He clenches his fists and stomps as the feeling spreads all the way up his chest. Emotion explodes into a temper. "Hmph. You hate everything I say."

"I do not hate everything you say, just most of it."

"Why do you taunt me?" the frustrated boy asks, pressing his lips to a frown and squeezing his brows together until they practically touch. He tilts his head and glares at Paw so intently that his emotion cannot be mistaken.

"You think I taunt you? Look around you, son of Lone Wolf. I am the only man who is taking the time to teach you how to hunt. Did someone else show you how to carve a bow? Now, if you remain like this, I'm going to paint your sour face on your shield, and all the boys will know the bitterness that lurks inside your heart."

The thought of such embarrassment disseminates Kiowa's swelling temper almost immediately.

"Please don't do that, Uncle. They would nickname me Frowns a Lot."

Paw laughs at Kiowa's response.

"It pleases me that you can be bartered with. Can you see past your feelings yet?"

Kiowa thinks about Paw's question and knows that no answer he offers will stop him from asking another question. He also knows if he asks his uncle what he would do, he will feel another flick of his finger. The only option he has now is to put serious thought into an answer that will liberate him from his folly. Just then a simple answer surfaces in his mind.

"If the deer don't show up tomorrow, I will sleep in the grass until they make the mistake of grazing within range of my arrows."

Paw smiles at the answer he has been waiting for. He puts his hand on the young man's shoulder and says, "Boys make words. Men make actions. This is why warriors seldom speak and always listen. Words cannot show our actions. We must be slow to use our words and quick to show our actions. When you want to move, look at this snake I carved on your bow. Remember how they sit still and wait undetected until it is too late."

Kiowa rubs his finger over the snake and listens as his uncle continues. "Actions require plans. Our plans won't always be solid like stones. The results of our actions will be. In fact, your actions will build a name for you. That name will either be a blessing or a curse. You will wear it on your shield all of the days of your life, and the tribe will never let you live beyond its shadow."

Paw leans down and lifts Lone Wolf's shield up. He displays the image on its rough hide.

"Your father's nickname was Lone Wolf because he would charge into battle on his own. You have heard my stories of him. He had no fear because he always had a plan!"

Paw hands Kiowa the shield. The boy takes it and sits down. He traces the sprinting wolf image with his fingers.

Moon Beam sits beside him and looks at the shield with a quirky smile.

"Like you, I had stones over my eyes that blinded me with fear of harm for your father. My heart would sink every time he would rush into battle, but I soon realized his plan was better than that of whomever he fought, and that is why he won!"

"So I must have a plan?"

"If you want to win and earn a name that will make your mother proud, you must not only have a plan, but you must have the best plan."

"How will I know if my plan is the best?"

"That is easy, Nephew. You will either be dead or alive. I must go now and leave you to your plan. This has been too many words for me. You must be honest with me and tell me which path you have taken and why."

"You aren't going to stay out here with me?"

"I won't always be with you, Kiowa. You are a young man now. You must learn to stand on your own two feet. I have killed many deer. My name is Paw because I learned to track animals by their paw prints. This is why the prints of many animals are on my shield. What image will be painted on your shield?""

"Who will keep me company?"

"Moon Beam. Who else? It is getting cold. Show me who you really are."

 **Notes... notes... notes...** Do you act without a plan? Are you hasty in your approach? Good thing you aren't an indian. You'd be dead. Plan. Attack. Win or lose. If lose and you are still alive, make a new plan. Here's a plan, Christmas is right around the corner. This book is up on Amazon, go searc, "Harvest Moon," by Zachary Lovelady. Get it in paperback/kindle. Or check us out on insta: Harvestmoonofficial


	17. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

Kiowa shivers. "This night is the longest and coldest night of my life, Moon Beam." He pets the silver fox's head. "Something has been taken from me. There is an empty space inside me that will never be full. And it makes me so sad it hurts."

Moon Beam whimpers in short heaves.

The stars shine so brilliantly, Kiowa believes that maybe his father can see him through the portals of heaven. It gives him hope to be patient and suffer through his discomfort. He dozes off and falls asleep on the cool grass. Late into the night, his chattering teeth and uncontrollable shivering should have woken him up, but it is the rustling of the grass that disturbs him. He lies motionless, wondering what he should do.

He hears a distinct birdcall and then the familiar sound of his mother's voice. "Kiowa?"

He returns her call. "I'm over here."

Grass Woman squints and searches the darkness. "Ah, there you are."

She comes over and wraps a buffalo hide around his shaking body, then hugs him.

"I thought you might need this."

"It is late, Mother. Why are you awake?"

"Oh, I was thinking of you," she says, sitting beside him. A sprinkling of gray hair shines like Moon Beam's in the moonlight. She pats him on the back and moves her hand around in circles.

"Tell me a story," Kiowa says with a yawn that makes her yawn.

"Oh, I am not good at those," she says, pulling her son close to her side.

"Uncle tells wonderful stories."

Grass Woman begins to hum a soft song and sway back and forth. She looks up at the sky and searches for her husband's spirit. "I sometimes hear his stories. They make me happy mostly. But sometimes they make me sad."

Kiowa doses off.

When the sun rises, Kiowa feels its warm rays on his face. He opens his eyes and looks for his mother, but she is gone. Her trail leads back to the village. Beside her trail, there was another trail.

"NO!" He panics. Leaping to his feet, he shakes the warm buffalo blanket off and grabs his bow. To his complete surprise, fresh deer droppings are all around him. He missed his opportunity, and even though he doesn't want to, he quickly reports it to his uncle.

"Uncle, I remained still like the snake, but I slept like dogs and they went right past me."

"Thank you for your honesty. What have you learned?"

Kiowa is shocked that his uncle receives the news well. He makes a simple adjustment by saying, "They come and go as they please. But when the sun is up, they are nowhere to be found."

When Paw nods, he feels pleased with this experience. "But there is still a problem. I have not really done anything."

"So, what are you going to do?" Paw asks, leaning down so he's eye level with the boy.

Kiowa hesitates. He doesn't want to say, Try again, because last night was colder than he expected. And besides, all the other boys slept inside the comfort of their tepees, with their families, and they had all learned just as much.

"If we don't succeed, we try again," Paw whispers, patting him on the back.

"I guess…" Kiowa humphs.

"Are you thirsty while you stalk?"

"Yes, but I dare not get up and go drink water. It will startle my friends."

"Then put some berries in your mouth and let them roll around. Or grass. It will keep your mouth wet."

"Okay, Uncle. Thank you for your concern."

The following day the deer do not show up, but Kiowa learns why. The grass blades had all been clipped nearly in half, and though the deer could eat the grass all the way to the root, they seem to only like the grass tips.

Over the course of several weeks, Kiowa learns much about the deer. He learns that when the sun makes the earth hottest, deer generally find a place to lie down in the shade, where it is cool. He also learns how clever they are by the way they conceal themselves in undergrowth that is tall and often the same color as their fur. He learns that above all deer are quiet and patient. He watches them wrap their pink tongues around a thick blade of grass and pull it in, then thrash their heads back and forth until the herbage breaks in half. He laughs at how their lower jaws move side to side and the white fur beneath their glossy black noses looks like a mustache and beard. He becomes so close to them, he even has names for them.

"You are a mother, Black Eyes," he says to a doe whose beautiful fawn he sees nursing. He names the fawn White Eyes because of the many white spots on its side. "Feed your baby, Black Eyes. A good mother always puts milk in its baby's stomach. Oh, how you must love your baby. You let him drink milk all day long."

Kiowa learns how they move. How they speak few words, but what noises they do make sound like creaking timber, a call that brings out their young. He is shocked to see that each white-spotted fawn knows its mother's distinct call the same way he knows his own mother's call.

In his many observations and discoveries, he seems to have forgotten that he is hunting the deer. He's reached a new level of respect for his forest friends and values that bond more than his progress with the tribe. The pinnacle of his affection comes from feeding a doe by hand. He giggles when he sees his goofy reflection in her wide black eyes. He wonders why the creator put a white stripe beneath her eyes.

"I will paint this on my shield," he promises the doe, dragging the tip of his finger beneath its eye.

Kiowa learned above all that deer are incredibly gentle creatures. Doe don't have a mean bone in their bodies.

"The more affection I show you, the more affection you show me. I despise myself for wanting to harm something that can't even protect itself." His despair grows to disappointment when he thinks about a fawn losing its mother. His heart sinks at the thought of one more creature walking the earth without a parent that tenderly loved them.

"I vow here and now that I will not harm my forest friends. But only the bucks who hurt each other and sometimes scar you, Black Eyes, with their long horns." He extends this vow to all things and sees the honor in being gentle.

As with the squirrels, Kiowa learns to predict where the deer will be, not where they are. He watches them scatter in a flash when the lazy young hunters stomp down the grass and send them into flight. He even knows where the bucks will reunite with their families. Many times he creeps up on them and finds father and mother curled up in the grass and circled around their babies in the midday heat. That is when he has the most fun, because the inexperienced hunters would search and search in the fields, nearly step right on them, and the deer family would not stir. It is their greatest secret.

He laughs when the deer escape his friends' arrows. Kiowa thinks of a wonderful idea to save his furry friends. I'll use the tops of the grass to lead them farther into the forest!

The next day he does just that, and soon his tribe has nothing to chase. Because he spends so much time with the deer, the boys begin to mock him. His people don't value that he had learned how to observe, plan, and even speak deer. He is spared the humiliation that sent many boys out into the field and back empty-handed, but he is grouped in the same category since he had the same results. No boy is permitted to return without meat, and he knows it won't be long before his mother begins whipping him as Makes Trouble's sisters whip their brother.

Unsure of what to do, he is torn between his feelings for the deer and his uncle's instruction. Kiowa meets with his uncle to discuss the matter.

"I don't think I can kill them, Uncle."

"You have learned much, but it is now nearing winter and my patience is wearing thin. I can appreciate your bond, but your friends will abandon you when winter comes, and you and your family will be hungry."

"You are disappointed in me?"

"I am pleased in your progress, but everything must eat."

"But I have meat of plenty."

"Yes, and how did you get that meat?"

"Mother brings it to me."

"Who gives it to your mother?"

"I do not know."

Paw smiles, "Well, when you figure it out, let me know. But consider this. Boys who hide behind men's arrows can eat only so long as men are willing to share."

"What happens if they are not willing to share?"

"Then you go the way of the earth," Paw informs him, moving his hand from the earth to the sky. "I want you to hunt the buffalo. It takes as many as eight buffalo to make a tepee. I want you to feed your wife and children. Put them in a nice tepee. Make sure they are warm during the winter. If you cannot do this, I have failed you. Worse, you will fail them."

"No. I do not want that," Kiowa cries out, shaking his hands.

Which one? he asks himself. A sickening feeling rises in the pit of his stomach.

He pushes the faces of his new friends from his mind. Instead, a new image emerges. A picture on his shield of a man sprinting with a deer. He can see the shield going into battle and costing him his life because no warrior in the world would be afraid to attack a deer-painted shield, and the only magic he could get from the deer is to run fast. But even the fastest deer can't outrun a mounted Kiowa. He knows this to be true. He also knows that the wolf, the coyote, the bear, and even large eagles attack the deer. It seems that his friends have many enemies because nothing on earth is afraid of them and they are afraid of everything.

"Fear cannot be the best way," he tells Moon Beam, who is always beside him.

A plan begins to emerge in his mind. He heard a wolf howling only a short time back and thought how wonderful it would be if he could come up on a wolf and shoot it instead of his friends. In his wild imagination he thought how that would please the tribe and protect the deer. He could win both hearts in one epic battle. But then the reality of the wolf pack circling a fallen member makes him realize the impossibility of such a crazy idea. The chances of finding dozens of healthy deer were much better.

Just then Paw says something that brings his blurry thoughts into clear focus.

"Do you know where they will be tomorrow?"

Kiowa nods.

"Then we will go together, and I will be there to see for myself what delays you."

A blank stare glazes over Kiowa's eyes. He sighs. "That sounds wonderful, Uncle."

The next morning Kiowa is already in the grassy field, eager to greet his friends. He has become an expert in camouflage, and neither he nor Paw could easily be identified in the tall green grass.

Paw plucks a blade and chews on the tip. The musky flavor has a hint of mint.

"They will be here soon."

"You know what they eat?"

Paw smiles. "Doesn't everyone?"

Kiowa suddenly feels cheated, like the secret pact he has with the deer is not so secret.

An old gray-chinned deer grazes on the tops of the grass off in the distance where Kiowa has led them. It unknowingly moves toward Kiowa with slow, painful steps.

"Aim for the heart," Paw whispers.

"I will," Kiowa replies, feeling his heart sink.

He knows the old doe and takes comfort in the fact that she doesn't have any fawns to mother. As he nocks an arrow and draws the string back, the tension in his chest is as tight as the string. He pauses, feeling like he wants to cry, but he doesn't. He closes his eyes and takes several deep breaths to calm his racing heart. He slowly opens his eyes.

Kiowa fires.

 **Reflection:** I will never forget the day I made my first kill. I transitioned from a boy where a wolrd of possibility in my kind heart was forver altered. My reality was shattered when I realized the meat I put in my stomach, comes from my furry friends. It's a terrible truth, but reality has its taste. Anywho, I hope you're enjoying the story. If you would like to see it come to life, check out instagram: harvestmoonofficial

Or if you would like to buy the book, since it is christmas and all, check out "Harvest Moon," by Zachary H. Lovelady on Amazon.


	18. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

The white arrow spirals once and makes a distinct thud when it pierces the doe's rib cage.

The deer's muscles tighten, and it turns and sprints away.

To Kiowa's shock, he has hit his target directly in the heart.

Kiowa looks at Paw for his approval. "I hit her! My first deer!"

The pain that sank his heart and made him cry is replaced with a fire that eviscerates his sympathies. Now he is a predator and will only grow stronger with each kill. Only the thrill of the kill remains, until the deer releases a loud high-pitched squeal. Its knees buckle as blood spurts out of the wound. Its head lowers, and it struggles to rise. Its eyes blink slowly, then gloss over. Its energy slowly fades, and the light of life blows out.

Pa, invisible until he stands, pats Kiowa on the back. "Well done, Nephew!"

Kiowa tosses his bow to the ground. He sits down and wraps his arms around his knees and lets the tears flow. Moon Beam walks up beside him and rests his paw on his knee.

"Onendah was right. Your heart is stronger than your mind."

"She was my friend."

Paw glances at the deer, then back at his nephew.

"I felt as you did on my first hunt."

Kiowa looks up and wipes tears from his eyes.

"I know not why the Sun God requires us to kill, but I know that it will get easier on the next one."

"Will it ever stop hurting?"

Paw looks at Kiowa and frowns. "It is not that the pain goes away but when you kill so often, you become numb to it. That is the way of the hunter. When you are older you will seek a vision."

"What will my vision tell me?" he asks, wiping tears from his red cheeks.

"One of two things. It will show you a great medicine or it will show you the warpath. The spirits will then show you what magic symbols to paint, and that is how you will live the rest of your days."

"What symbols did they show you?"

"I could not see any animals or magic symbols. I could only see paw prints in the sand and in the sky." He motions with his hand. His long black hair catches in the wind and blows like strings of silk.

For the first time Kiowa understands the red line under his uncle's cheeks. Those were warrior marks, not medicine marks. His uncle is undoubtedly a warrior, though his knowledge of magic has convinced Kiowa that his uncle is as powerful a medicine man as Onendah.

"Do you understand?"

Kiowa nods, acknowledging that he understands, but his emotions swirl. What if I don't want to be a great warrior? The question shakes the foundation of everything he's been taught.

Paw interrupts his thoughts. "Your father would have wanted to be here for this. He would tell you"—he imitates Lone Wolf's voice—"'You have to be a warrior like me!' I am glad that I am here with you, so that I can tell you to be whatever your vision tells you to be."

Seasons pass like clouds slipping across the sky. Paw prepares Kiowa for the defining moment of his life the way a mountain lion trains its cub. He teaches Kiowa and his friend Makes Trouble how to track the buffalo herd's hoofprints.

Kiowa takes the lessons seriously.

"Every living thing that walks the earth leaves a footprint and a trail. A fresh, moist print will tell you how close you are. A dry one will tell you how many days. A deep one will most likely be a bull since they weigh more than the cows. A shallow print could be an old, weak buffalo or a starving one. Now tell me what you think." Paw instructs, then questions.

"Buffalo are similar to deer in the way mothers know their calves' calls, but not nearly as graceful. In fact, they are husky, stinky, slow-moving animals. But they are perceptive and, unlike the deer, every buffalo that can attack will. Hunting them requires incredible patience," Kiowa answers.

"And you, Makes Trouble?" Paw prods him in the ribs with his finger. "What are your troublesome thoughts?"

"I am going to keep my thoughts to myself. Kiowa has said enough," Makes Trouble replies with an empty expression.

Paw teaches the young men to stay low and stalk on their bellies. He is so accurate at reading tracks, he can predict within the hour where the buffalo will be. Among the herd's tracks, he sees an unmistakable horse print. The horse's tracks run parallel to the buffalo, and Paw gets the distinct impression that they are not alone.

Moon Beam crawls up beside them and rests as flat as he can beside Kiowa. He even flattens his ears to prove that he can lie as low. They remain like this until nightfall.

Early the next morning Kiowa whispers to Makes Trouble, "Do you know why you are here?"

"I think so. I'm here to hunt buffalo," Makes Trouble whispers back.

"That is true, but that's not why you are here."

"Why am I here?" Makes Trouble puckers up his lips and crinkles his brows together. "You must know, my would-be brother."

"My uncle asked me to pick someone to leave the rabbit circle with. I chose you."

"Does this mean we will be brothers in war for all of our days?"

Kiowa nods.

Makes Trouble smiles. "Oh, this makes me so happy. I was going to pick someone else, but when I asked, he said he already had a partner."

Kiowa frowns.

"Look there, boys. Do you see that?" Paw interrupts.

Makes Trouble and Kiowa instantly spot a white buffalo galloping across the emerald grass.

"The Sun God has sent us a sign," Paw declares.

 **Author's words:** Oh how the boys grow fast. It seems like just yesterday they were fishing, hunting rabbits, making trouble. Now they are young men on their first buffalo hunt. I wonder what will come next, maybe a raid? Wouldn't that be fun? Get some pay back on the Cheyenne?

Well if you're like me you don't want to wait. If you don't want to wait for these chapters to be uploaded and released every day, hop on over to Amazon where you can find the book, "Harvest Moon," in kinlde/book format. If you'd like to see what I think these characters look like, hop on over to instagram: harvestmoonofficial. Till we meet again.


	19. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

"He sends the white buffalo? What does it mean?" Kiowa asks.

"A long time ago, a woman appeared in the form of a white buffalo. One man was disrespectful to her and she turned him into a pile of bones. Another was respectful, and she gave him a flute and taught him special music. She also taught him special rituals that would one day bring peace," Paw teaches, handing them buffalo hides.

"Peace – that would be nice." Kiowa imagines what that might look like.

"Won't they smell us and startle?" Makes Trouble asks, doubting Pa's plan.

"They will smell us, but they will not startle. Cover yourselves up in these hides and their eyes will tell them we are one of them, while their noses will tell a different story. Some will scatter. Most will be like people—they will accept what they see."

"I don't understand," Makes Trouble says, bewildered at Pa's last remark.

"My patience grows thin. I can't wait to kill a massive bull." Kiowa grins, painting his face black and applying streaks of green paint to camouflage amongst the grass. He then wraps the buffalo hide around his back, ties a rope around his waist to hold it in place, and then immediately feels the temperature rise. The combination of the buffalo blanket and the morning sun on this spring day makes him wonder how the buffalo manage to not catch on fire.

"We will not be killing the buffalo as long as their protector is with them," Paw updates the boys.

"Then why are we here?" Kiowa asks.

"Be patient. Be still. Observe. Plan. Attack when their guardian is not with them," Paw firmly responds, applying paint to his face.

Be patient? When the Sun God's gift is before us? All I have to do is capture that trophy and my family is guaranteed meat for the rest of our days. Every Indian knows that's the reward you get when you catch a pretty white magic buffalo coat. Why do we not seize this prize? Makes Trouble wonders.

The hunters lean over on all fours and act as buffalo.

"A great lake of brown meat stretches out as far as the eyes can see," Makes Trouble whispers to Kiowa. "I am getting hungry just looking at them."

Behind them, Paw whispers, "Makes Trouble, what is your plan?"

Makes Trouble sizes up the heard from largest to smallest and decides to focus on the calves. "We should attack and scatter the young. Then it will be three against one."

Paw turns to Kiowa. "And what is your plan?"

Unsure of what to say, because his friend stole his answer, Kiowa decides to say something different. "We separate part of the herd and take some of the bigger buffalo first and some of the smaller ones when they tire from being chased."

Paw slaps the back of their heads. The boys jolt from the impact and rub their sore spots.

"Your youth is like a well of foolishness. You think the Kiowa are the only people to hunt buffalo?"

Both Kiowa and Makes Trouble shake their heads in confusion.

"If we are not here to hunt, then why are we here?"

"What does a name mean?" Paw asks.

The boys look at each other in bewilderment.

"Without it you would wander far from your parents and make nothing but great trouble," Makes Trouble responds.

"I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to my brother's son. What do you say, my would-be son?"

"Now is not the time to ask us this. We have more food and blankets roaming the field than I have ever seen. It is time to hunt," Kiowa asserts, knowing he offers the wrong answer.

"It is time to hunt when I say it is time," Paw corrects his nephew. "Now think."

"A name changes, so it is nothing." Kiowa tries again, resisting his excitement to rush the buffalo.

"Yes! This is true. Let us think on this and see if you need to know more today or if you will need to know more later. Come, follow me."

Paw crouches down and leads their stalk. They get within a hundred yards of the herd.

Kiowa hears their unusual grunts and groans and wonders what they are saying. He watches the males roll around in the dust, then approach the females and communicate in a way he can't understand. It seems to him that their disguises do not deceive the buffalo by the way the buffalo stare at them.

A bull sprints after the adorning male and smashes his massive horned head into the newcomer's horns. The clacking skulls sound like painful thunder.

"What woman is worth all that?" Makes Trouble snickers.

"Not just one woman. All of the women," Paw answers.

Makes Trouble nods in admiration. "I would smash my brains out for that reward!"

Unlike with the deer, Kiowa feels no attachment to the buffalo. To him, they are big dumb animals that should be slaughtered. They have no art, no cunning, no grace, no beauty or appeal. Even the young are ugly. To him the buffalo seem to have no other purpose than to clip grass, litter the earth with fertilizer, grow large, feed the tribe with their meat, and warm their bodies with their hides. Even their mating ritual is brutal. Bulls bellow deep roars as they charge each other and fight for breeding rights. This is the most curious thing to Kiowa. All this effort and exhaustion for the ugliest face he has ever seen.

The buffalo are the life force that sustains our people, Kiowa thinks. He readies his bow, but Paw quickly stops him. He points to an approaching Cheyenne hunting party on horseback. Their brown-and-white spotted pinto mustangs are led by a speedy horse, whose rider wears a long black bear hide. Their swift motions stir the massive herd and scatter the buffalo, exactly as Makes Trouble had anticipated.

"Ah, this is what I had hoped for," Paw tells the boys as he watches the Cheyenne pursue the white buffalo off in the distance.

"Now I see why you have led us down here in disguise," Makes Trouble whispers to Pa. "You want us to wait for them to kill the buffalo and then steal its hide."

Paw signs for them to be quiet and use only their hand signs.

The thuds of the buffalo's hooves kick up dirt clods and shake the earth so violently they rattle Kiowa's jaw. He hums and chuckles at the vibrating sound his voice makes.

A man may change his name many times in one life, but it will usually be something he does that makes his name good. Long lasting, Kiowa thinks.

Paw nods at the boys. They nod back.

Be eager to earn a name that your sons will fight for! Paw signs, nodding at the Cheyenne.

The brown buffalo act as a buffer between the Cheyenne and the white buffalo. They let the ghostly beast lead the pack.

Paw points at the leader of the Cheyenne hunting party and signs, Him a man.

I agree, Kiowa confidently signs back.

Him also a bear, Paw signs, pointing at the man who wears the black bear hide.

Kiowa looks confused. How can a man be a bear? Kiowa signs.

Not just any bear, Chief Black Bear, Paw signs back.

 **Author's recap:** I remember getting punched once when I was a boy. It was a terrible experience. I was so pissed, i got up to punch back, but the kid on the play ground was gone. For days I searched for him. When I finally found him, I ran up and punched him in the face. It was a strike that made me feel so good. Then bad. As it turned out, his hit was an accident, whereas mine was on purpose. I wonder what Kiowa will do when he finds Chief Black Bear?

I know you've probably already heard this somewhere, but the whole book is on Amazon. Just type in "Harvest Moon," by Zachary H. Lovelady. Or if you want to see Instagram bring the characters to life, check out harvestmoonofficial


	20. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

"The most precious gift was taken from us. The love I had for my brother. The love he had for you. The love you had for him was ripped out of our lives. This is the man who has done it. Tonight we are going to take back a life, for the life he has taken!" Paw whispers.

Numbness washes over Kiowa and drowns his fear. A small flame ignites in his heart. He looks at Moon Beam, who seems to nod. The confirmation from his demigod fans the rising flames of rage.

"I stole this power from him." Paw pats a bundle of furs wrapped around the golden lance. "I hoped he would again be a man. The white buffalo was a sign to me that he would be here," Paw whispers. "I am glad you are here with me, Nephew. I want you to see me use this."

The rage swells and shows in Kiowa's blazing eyes. He hears his uncle's words, but his mind is elsewhere. A gust of wind whispers, "Avenge me."

Across the prairie, Black Bear encourages his hunters. "Where the white buffalo is, great magic follows. If she is not killed and sacrificed to the Sun God, she will lead the buffalo away until our people starve out. We must kill her and put to death the man of magic who has brought her here."

"Ai hay!" the Cheyenne hunters shout in agreement, pursuing the white buffalo with fierce whooping cries.

Kiowa's predatory gaze fixes on Chief Black Bear. The fire turns to lava, coursing through his heart and blazing through his veins. His jaw clenches and his hands tighten into fists. Now he understands why Paw has brought him to this place season after season. It wasn't to observe the buffalo but to find Chief Black Bear.

The Kiowa warriors stalk the Cheyenne as they would the buffalo, with slow, steady motions. They stay a safe distance away. They watch. They listen. They pray for justice.

"A warrior should kill at least one buffalo before he kills a man. But I have sworn an oath to kill Chief Black Bear, and I will not betray my brother now. Your father's legs carried me here, and I will follow their tracks back to camp. I will need your hands, Nephew."

"What will we do then?" Makes Trouble asks.

"Summon a war party."

"They are bound to have dogs. What will we do if we wake them?"

"Then both of you will be warriors tonight."

Paw's words fall on deaf ears.

Rage explodes inside Kiowa and forces him to his feet. With zero regard for Paw or Makes Trouble, Kiowa exposes their concealed position. He removes his buffalo hide and lets his russet chest and tawny deer-hide pants stand out in stark contrast to his green prairie surroundings. The buffalo stir at the sight of him and scamper off.

"Turn your horse around and look at my face, Chief Black Bear. My heart is full of fire! My hands turn to fury. I wear the mask of death. Come! Receive it!"

Black Bear and his hunting party are so engrossed in their hunt that they don't even notice the lone warrior. They simply pursue the herd.

Black Bear skillfully rides alongside a sprinting bull. His horsemanship is unmatched. He lifts a long spear and thrusts. His warriors fire arrows. They each take turns. The hunters know their attacks won't drop the beast. For this reason, they taunt, tease, and run the buffalo to keep its heart beating and pumping the life force out of the open wounds.

The bull staggers, drops to its knees, releases one loud bellow, and falls to its side. Black Bear thrusts his spear deep into the beast's heart. For the chief, the death blow is the greatest honor.

Kiowa releases his rage in one loud war cry. "AAAHHH-HHHOOO!"

One of the Cheyenne warriors hears the high-pitched wail. He scans the horizon and spots Kiowa. The brave halts his horse by pulling on the reins. With a swift jerk of the reins, he makes a sharp turn and points out Kiowa's distant tiny frame. He cries out to Chief Black Bear, halting the hunt's momentum.

"What, Lone Horn? Don't you realize all I have left is the hunt? After two hundred winters of life, that is all that I live for. It is the only thing that excites me," Chief Black Bear shouts. He peels off and circles around. "There is nothing but the hunt!" His disappointment shows on his frowning face. He holds his spear up and aims at Lone Horn. "My blade is thirsty for blood. I haven't even begun to whet it!"

"Chief, look over there." Lone Horn points at Kiowa. "That foolish warrior challenges you."

Black Bear strains his eyes to see the distant figure wildly waving his arms and shouting like a madman.

"He must be crazy," Sitting Elk shouts.

"He could be running from something," Spotted Fawn, the youngest of the hunters, says.

"Could be?" Sitting Elk humphs.

"Maybe he's running from another tribe," Spotted Fawn suggests.

Serious stone-faced men turn their painted faces toward him. All at once they burst into laughter.

"He is not alone," Black Bear grunts, knowing that Indians, like wolves, travel in packs.

"What tribe?" Lone Horn asks.

"Does it matter? My spear beckons for more blood. Can it be drawn and offer peace?" Black Bear questions. His eyes flash. Humanity disappears. It is replaced by savage, wild eyes.

"No."

"He challenges me. I accept. That is all!"

Chief Black Bear adjusts himself in his saddle and boldly peels away from the herd. He kicks hard at the side of his horse. The mustang stands up on its hind legs and cycles its front hooves. It releases a high-pitched whinny and sprints away, shaking the earth and kicking up dirt clods.

His warriors send their horses into flight and take up diagonal flanks by their chief. The Cheyenne furiously speed across the grassy plain in an arrowhead formation. Black Bear releases a war cry that lets Kiowa know he accepts his challenge.

Kiowa shouts back, "My heart is full of courage!"

"You damn fool!" Paw cries out.

"I think perhaps you have the wrong name, Kiowa," Makes Trouble says, shaking his head.

Kiowa feels the distant thuds of horses' hooves, and a great anxiety swells inside his chest as the vibrations grow.

"Do we run?" Makes Trouble asks.

Paw shakes his head. "They will scatter us like the buffalo and kill us quickly."

"What is to be done?"

"Ready your bow and die like a man!"

Makes Trouble scrambles for an arrow. His trembling hand struggles to nock it. "I haven't even had a chance to earn my name!"

"If we can kill the strongest first, the weaker ones will retreat," Paw informs his men.

"If we can't?" Makes Trouble begs, drawing the string of his bow.

"They will kill us, scalp us, and follow our tracks back to the tribe."

Once the Cheyenne are within range, Paw flips his buffalo hide off and takes a knee. Drawing an arrow, he aims high and fires.

"Ha! You see. They are never alone!" Chief Black Bear says, still unsure of the tribe he rides against. He points his spear at Kiowa. "The crazy boy's scalp is mine. The rest are yours!"

Paw's arrow strikes true, dismounting a Cheyenne warrior. The warrior tries to stand up but loses strength. Blood spurts out of his abdomen. His knees wobble as he grabs the arrow with both hands and forcefully rips it out. Parts of his intestines protrude from the incision, taking him out of the fight.

Inspired by Paw, Makes Trouble quickly fires. His arrow rises high, then falls low and strikes the earth.

"I said do as I do!" Paw rebukes him.

Paw fires again, striking a warrior's horse in the neck. The stud bucks its rider. Paw quickly aims over the man's head and misses. Within seconds, he releases a second and third arrow, eventually hitting his intended target.

Makes Trouble fires and hits an enemy in the groin. The Cheyenne brave falls off his horse, screaming so loud it scares the horses and forces them to run faster.

Paw pauses for a moment, then smiles. "Hmmm…I like your way better."

The Cheyenne are nearly upon them. Too terrified to laugh, Makes Trouble reaches for another arrow. He backs up like he's going to run, but Paw holds him in place.

"We fight as one!" he orders the young man.

Kiowa doesn't back down. Instead, he shouts, "Come to me, Chief Black Bear. I will spill your blood and make it flow like a stream on the grass. I will take your scalp and imprison your soul!"

"Kiowa…" Paw shouts, tossing him the golden lance.

Kiowa looks at his uncle and sees the powerful object glowing in midair. Instinctively, he reaches out and catches it. The second his hand touches it, the sun ignites a blinding light that slows Chief Black Bear's charge. The Cheyenne shield their eyes.

Paw wastes no time firing another arrow. He hits a horse in the leg next to Black Bear but does not reach his intended target. The horse bucks its rider and neighs as it sprints away.

"Ah, I know this man!" Black Bear shouts, lowering his spear. "This is the brother of Lone Wolf. We will make him sing the song of agony. Then we will scalp him alive, the way his brother scalped my son. Let us cut off his arms, his legs, and take out his eyes. He will be our living trophy!"

A soft amber glow bonds to Kiowa's tanned skin.

Black Bear lowers the point of his spear and readies his thrust. "The hunt! It really is all that's left." As he gets closer, a wild, excited grin flashes across his face. "You have not unlocked its power, or I would be facing a worse enemy than three men."

His warriors follow close behind, whooping war cries as they go.

Makes Trouble takes aim at Black Bear, but Paw pushes his arm down.

"Let Kiowa prove whose son he is."

"What if Black Bear kills him?"

Paw draws a deep breath and feels the weight of his brother's loss transfer to his nephew. "Then it is his time to reunite with his father."

Fueled by a mixture of rage and vengeance, Kiowa sprints toward his father's killer. Everything seems to slow. He sees Black Bear orient his flint-tipped gray spear toward him. The feathers tied around the shaft wave wildly. With a quick hike of his shoulder, the spear tucks firmly beneath his arm. Now Black Bear can see the weapon steady and aim directly at Kiowa's face. The horse's head rises, and its powerful hooves fall. The spotted brown-and-white mustang splashes through the marshy grass, splattering waves of cascading water with each step. Thousands of water beads form perfect spheres, then drop down as the mustang shakes the earth with each thrusting sprint.

Kiowa can hear the mustang exhale and notices how its eyes are as fiercely fixed on him as Black Bear's are.

"Aiye-ahhh!" Black Bear cries, lowering his shield and dropping his black-painted jaw. His eagle-feathered bonnet flattens against his head. He leans forward and prepares for the final thrust.

With every ounce of strength he has, Kiowa's arm retracts, then snaps forward. He hurls the golden lance with all his might.

Chief Black Bear glares over his raised shield.

 **Authors note:** Strike first! Strike hard! No mercy sir! In this dojo, mercy is for the weak. Well at least that's what Johnny's sensai thought in the Karate kid. Who will win? I can hardly wait! If you're like me, you should just go get the book already. Go to Amazon and type in "Harvest Moon," by Zachary H. Lovelady. Book/kindle format are readily available. Oh and if you want to see the characters as I see them, check me out on insta: harvestmoonofficial.


	21. Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

The golden lance leaves an ambient trail as it streaks through the sky, then disappears when it passes through Black Bear's shield.

Kiowa doesn't flinch. He doesn't run from the attack. He closes his eyes and trusts in his magic.

When nothing happens in that infinite second, he opens his eyes and sees the jagged tip of Black Bear's spear shift from his nose and dip past his chest. Kiowa's skin prickles when he feels the feathers brush past him. The spear penetrates the ground and throttles back and forth. A tingling sensation washes over him. For a moment he thinks he's passed into the next world. He rapidly blinks, expecting to see his father on a white horse, bringing another white horse for him. Instead, he sees none of that. Things are as they were, except Black Bear's body hunches over on his horse.

The hole in Black Bear's shield burns with orange embers where the lance passed clean through. As the horse continues through him, Kiowa can see the gleaming shaft poking out of his enemy's crimson back. The chief's nerves jolt as the horse walks back and forth.

"Today…" Kiowa exhales with a short breath.

Makes Trouble sees red blood spread in a perfect circle. The mighty villain's slumped body tumbles off his horse, making a terrible thump as it collides with the earth. "AHHH HOOO!" Make's Trouble cries, raising his bow above his head. He nocks an arrow and aims at the weary Cheyenne approaching, then fires. The warriors slow and turn their horses about, calling for their chief as the animals call for one another.

Kiowa walks over to greet the face responsible for all of his sorrow. When he sees the glaze of death in Black Bear's hollow eyes, which were once cold and calculating, he can't hold back his excitement. "Ah-hoe!" he shouts.

"AHHH HOOO!" Paw cries, unsheathing his scalping knife.

Kiowa kneels down and unties Black Bear's headdress. "Today you guided my hands, Father. You gave me strength I never knew I had. Thank you for today!"

Kiowa places one foot on Black Bear's chest, then forcefully rips the golden lance from his lifeless body. He looks at the Cheyenne braves, who keep a safe distance away.

"AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!" Kiowa screams, lifting the bloody golden lance above his head.

The lingering Cheyenne take flight, while the blood of his enemy streams off the weapon and down Kiowa's arm. The men stop to retrieve their wounded, then speed across the plain, letting their dusty trail rest on their dead.

As the adrenaline begins to wear off, Kiowa realizes what he's just done. His knees buckle and his hands tremble. Fear and a great sense of satisfaction overpower him. The competing emotions cause tears to well in his eyes as the full impact of his kill settles like sand in his muddy mind. He looks at Black Bear's war bonnet and tries to steady his trembling hands as he wonders which feather represents his father.

Makes Trouble goes to comfort his friend, but Paw takes him by the arm. He leads Makes Trouble away and points to the fallen buffalo and the fleeing Cheyenne.

"Now you see wisdom. They hunt buffalo; we hunt them. They kill buffalo; we kill them. Now we keep the buffalo and take their scalps! Best of all, we did no harm to the white buffalo. She is free to return to the heavens. Today we are the men who treated her with respect, and she has rewarded us for it. Look here. Are we not the victors?" Paw tilts the gleaming blade of his scalping knife.

"Do you want the honor?" Paw offers Kiowa his knife.

Kiowa shakes his head. "I've never taken a scalp. I wouldn't know what to do. This lance and the headdress are all the trophies I need."

Paw moves over to Black Bear, grips the handle tightly, and kneels down. He wraps his hand around Black Bear's hair back and pulls taut. "Cut behind the ear first."

He thrusts the tip of the blade in and goes to work. "I broke my promise to you, my great enemy. I swore that it would be me who freed your spirit from your body. But today Lone Wolf's son has killed your body. I will keep my promise now. I will be the one to take your scalp. And Onendah will be the one to trap your soul!"

Charlie drops a log on the fire. Orange embers rise from the flames and trail of into the starry night. Luther yawns, mesmerized by the orange sparks.

"So that's it? He killed the Cheyenne chief. I thought you said it was a love story," Kevin says, wondering what he's missing.

"Yes, sir. He ran him right through with his own instrument. We ain't even close to the end of this here story, so sit tight, shut your mallow eaters, and open your ear balls," Charlie says.

"Wasn't he scared?" John asks.

"If he was he didn't show it!"

"Was it right for him to kill Chief Black Bear?" Zack asks.

"What an incredible question! In this life, I've learned two things: One, things ain't always what they seem. Two, wrong ain't always what it seems, either. Sometimes right has way of appearing in a messy ball of wrong, but once you begin to untangle it, you see it for what it is."

"How do you know if it's right, then?" Luther asks, looking up from the flames for the first time since the story began.

"That's another great question. In this case, nothing could stop right from untangling its wrong self."

Grass Woman, Kiowa's mother, lays strips of elk meat out on a pine pole. Her mind drifts, and she swears she feels her husband, Lone Wolf, place his hand on her shoulder. An electric sensation fires on every nerve. It washes over her in a way that can be described only as a gust of wind. It awakens her soul with little cracks of lightning. She presses her hand to where she thinks she feels his.

"I feel you, my love," she whispers as the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. When the breeze passes, her hand slides from her shoulder to her heart. "I did not think you would want to leave the happy hunting grounds to come back and see me like this." Warmth, as powerful as the sun, rises inside her. In that moment, she knows she is not alone. Like the tide drawing back, the wave fades and her senses are again her own. But the memory of the moment remains, and though the warmth is gone, her heart is on fire.

As the day passes and the sun sets, the tribe readies for a cool night. Fog smothers the grass and fires ignite to keep the children and elderly warm.

"COME! COME!" Paw's voice interrupts the peaceful calm of the settling tribe.

Children run out of their tepees wearing sackcloth rabbit fur that conceals their gender. Their mothers chase after them with toddlers in arms. The warriors follow the women to see what all the excitement is about.

"My brother, Lone Wolf, spared us from Chief Black Bear and paid a high price for our lives. Today Chief Black Bear has been repaid equally for the hole he punched in our hearts!"

The tribe erupts in high cheers and loud praise. The warriors turn to Paw, excitedly rushing toward him. Hundreds of questions leap out of broad grinning faces.

"You killed Chief Black Bear?" Two Moons, Lone Wolf's oldest son, asks.

Paw immediately sets the record straight. "Kiowa killed Chief Black Bear!"

 **A word from our sponsors:** We don't have any. Merry Christmas. Buy the book on Amazon. "Harvest Moon," by Zachary H. Lovelady

Check me out on insta: Harvestmoonofficial


	22. Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

"Kiowa killed Chief Black Bear?" Two Moons questions in complete disbelief.

The warriors turn their focus away from Paw, the calm muscular warrior, to the young brave, whose muscles are just beginning to bud.

Kiowa feels the eyes of his people shift from his uncle to himself. Their silence and their gaping jaws make him feel awkward, like he's done something terribly wrong. He isn't sure what to do, so he lifts the feathered headdress and says one word. "Today!"

The tribe erupts in explosive cheers. They howl, dance, and wave their hands wildly.

Kiowa spots Kida pushing through the crowd. He smiles as she throws herself at his feet.

"You are a great warrior!" She reaches for him as though touching him might let her break a piece of his greatness off for herself.

Memories flash in her mind, from the boy who could not kill a rabbit to the man who has avenged his father and killed a great chief. She looks up at him. Her doting eyes are washed of doubt and filled with gushing admiration. She raises her hands and releases a victory cry. Soon all of the girls join in.

Kiowa blushes as his brothers Two Moons and Weasel Tail lift him on their shoulders and release victory cries so fierce, they terrify the youngest children, who scamper off after their parents like rabbits.

An explosion of praise thunders through the camp. Kiowa raises Black Bear's war bonnet high and searches for his mother. When he sees her, he tosses her the trophy. She slowly kneels down and says, "Own, p'ayle doe," meaning, "Today, my love."

While the warriors carry him over to the fire and widen its warmth with logs, a few members of the tribe mount horses and speed away for the fallen buffalo.

"Listen," Paw says, hushing the tribe.

"Listen to how Lone Wolf became our greatest warrior." As Paw begins the story, the tribe circles around him. Orange firelight illuminates their proud faces. Two Moons beats on his drum. The fading sun sets the perfect stage, dimming the green pines to pointy shadows and spreading fog like a blanket over all the earth.

Kiowa listens to Paw recount the story. His uncle speaks of how he bravely stood alone and faced down his father's killer. When he assumes Kiowa's brave stance, the Dog Warriors gasp, while the ladies show their admiration through long twinkling gazes. The girls closest to him pat him on the back. All the girls tilt their heads and flutter their eyes and gush over him.

Kiowa is grateful that his uncle left out the scolding Paw gave him. He's also grateful he didn't tell the tribe about the golden lance. For though the tribe had possessions of their own, it wasn't uncommon for someone to "borrow" precious items for lengthy periods of time without returning them. It could be a lifetime before Kiowa got his turn with the lance, and since it was what his father died for, he felt especially close to it.

When Paw finishes the story, the women wipe tears from their eyes and look at their sons with high ambitions. Little girls fantasize about the sons they have yet to have and how they ought to be like Kiowa. Young men feel their arms and measure themselves against Kiowa. To look at the newest warrior, he doesn't seem to be much larger in stature than they are, which gives them hope that one day they will be as brave and as courageous as he is.

Kids lead the squaw in a dance to honor Kiowa. He'd hoped to be the hero, but he'd never suspected it would be so soon. Squaw as young as fifteen flap their arms like birds and dance around a tall pole that's covered in red paint and decorated with fresh scalps. Eagle and owl feathers form a feathery ring around the top and bottom of the pole. Beads of all kinds of colors are fastened to strings and adorn the pole from top to bottom. A short struggle ensues for the honor to carry the trophies, but Kida, being bigger, stronger, and most fierce, wins the honor. They begin to sing in a soft, sweet tone, which grows louder with the beating drum. Somehow they all keep time perfectly. As the drumbeat increases, the girls dance more wildly.

Young men shoo the girls away. They smooth out the earth while the Dog Warriors strip down to their breechcloths. They paint one another's bodies white and dress in buffalo skin. While they do this, they make buffalo noises.

Once the warriors are painted from head to toe, they dip their hands in yellow paint. Each one presses his open hand on Kiowa's body. It isn't long before Kiowa is covered in the highest honor the warriors have to offer, the compliment of the sun.

Kiowa is offered a plate of black paint. He dips his hands in and is instructed by his uncle to paint his feet. Since Kida has subdued the other females, she is permitted to tie prairie sage around Kiowa's wrists and ankles. She completes his victory outfit by placing a jackrabbit bonnet on his head.

Paw places a crow wing in one hand and blows through an eagle-bone whistle.

Kiowa sees Moon Beam watching from a distance. The silver fox seems to acknowledge Kiowa's victory through humble observation. His glittering green eyes flicker in the fire's flames. And he seems to be smiling.

Grass Woman brings his magic pouch out to him. "My son's magic is strong. I give him my blessing and the most potent magic I have, the power to blind his enemies. I have placed it in this pouch alongside his father's, and now no one can do him harm."

The tribe hoots and howls.

Kida dances and raises her hands as she shouts, "If you have eyes, let them see that this great warrior will steal your horse, take your scalp, and win your heart. He will be a ghost in the night and a spirit in the day."

"Hey hoe!" The Dog Warriors shout.

Kida beckons the tribe to follow her wild gyrations. Everyone dances around the fire, spinning themselves into a dizzy fray.

Warriors take turns shouting their prayers to Kiowa's idol. They say things like, "Keep our enemies asleep while we creep upon them. Let us plunder them and gain many scalps. Help us take captives to fill the empty spots of our fallen brothers and sisters. Help us steal good horses and, please, don't let us get hurt."

This praising dance lasts hours. When the children can't possibly twirl, spin, or wave their arms anymore, they sit cross-legged at the fire.

The warriors last the longest. They rattle their gourds and make use of any instrument they can contrive. Eventually the squaw and the men dance shoulder to shoulder, swaying back and forth as one tribe. A flute draws the tribe in toward the fire, and a rattle sends the circle back.

Grass Woman walks into the center of the circle. She spreads her arms out and drapes Black Bear's scalp across her back. "Whose scalp rests on my shoulders?" she asks the tribe.

The young men shout, "Our common enemy, Man-Bear."

With a spin and a turn, she displays the scalp to all of the young girls. They hiss at their enemy and spit on the moist scalp to cast off his evil spirit.

"Which of you believes yourself worthy to be my daughter? Which of you can give me grandsons?" Grass Woman challenges the young girls.

Not one squaw speaks, but the answer rests perfectly on Kida's confident face. She believes herself to be worthy of such a great honor, and though she wants to shout, "I will give Kiowa the most powerful sons," she doesn't. Instead, she slips her tongue between her teeth and bites hard enough to make herself cry.

 **A word:** Justice or revenge? I'm going with justice. Chief Black Bear used a power he didn't understand to wage a war he couldn't win. This sort of thing has a way of coming full circle. If you look at the French revolution back in the 18th century, the men responsible for the slaughter, were in fact slaughtered. Funny how that works. Grass Woman sure is happy. How many of you would let the scalp of your enemy rest on your shoulders? I for one would not. Wow, from a boy to a man, Kiowa sure is on his way!

If you would like to read this story in its entirety, feel free to buy it on Amazon. "Harvest Moon," by Zachary H. Lovelady. If you would like to see these characters come to life, vist instagram: harvestmoonofficial.


	23. Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

Two Moons takes off the bearskin and wipes his brow.

"I'm so filled with joy, I have to find a bigger drum!" He hands his bearskin to his son, then runs over to the largest drum he owns. He beats on it with such force, the bass percussion vibrates through everyone's chests.

"Hiyah, oh, hey, ya hey!" Two Moons sings as he pounds away. "Today we dance to Kiowa's victory. Our brother has earned his father's name!"

"Hey hoe!" the warriors affirm.

A heavy beat on the drum picks up the pace. Flutes blow, and Paw leaps to his feet and joins Two Moons in telling the story of Lone Wolf's death. Now he is acting himself. Uncle and nephew circle the "man-bear" and stab at him with invisible spears. The bear twists and turns. He claws at them, bites at them. Tries his best to catch them with claws that snatch and teeth that tear. The two warriors show how clever they are through dance.

"Now you see with eyes you did not have before." Onendah interrupts the dance. He materializes out of nowhere. He flips his gray hair over his shoulder and adjusts his white buckskin pants. In his hands he carries his magic wand. In the other, a large, steaming leather pouch.

Kiowa nods. "You speak what I think."

"It is my gift," Onendah says, opening the leather pouch. He thrusts his hands in and pulls out fistfuls of glistening black mud.

"We must cleanse your spirit, so that you will be pure from Black Bear's power." Onendah smears warm grit all over Kiowa's chest. He covers the boy from head to toe. Kiowa's immediate family members are the only ones permitted to touch him.

"Today a new star is born. He shines for his people and his people shine for him!" Onendah shouts.

"Ah-hoe!" the tribe cries out. Women spread their arms and shake their rattles. They flick their tongues on the roof of their mouths and make a high-pitched noise that endorses Kiowa with their highest honor. Kida's pitch is the highest, and her dance maneuvers are the most pronounced.

"You have earned your war bonnet, Kiowa. Now you must prove your worth, one deed at a time. Your only reward for your sacrifice will be a single feather taken from the bonnet of your fallen enemy."

Onendah holds the golden lance high above his head. Kiowa's heart sinks. I wanted that for myself.

The tribe sees it for the first time and they rush to touch the sun's power. Onendah holds it away and pushes them back with his other hand. Though the amber glow doesn't work for the medicine man as it did for Chief Black Bear, its luster silences their celebration.

"Do you accept your destiny?" Onendah asks Kiowa.

Kiowa slowly looks at each of his warrior brothers. One by one, they nod in affirmation. He lifts his hands and accepts the lance.

"This will be the symbol I paint on my shield: the golden lance!"

The tribe cheer for him.

"Your magic and your first feather," Onendah says, placing the bonnet on his head.

Now no one can take the weapon from me. It is not permitted to borrow another's magic, Kiowa thinks.

The white rabbit fur at the base of the headband is tainted with black mud as Onendah fastens it to Kiowa's head.

"Your bonnet is stained. See that your honor is not!" Onendah says, raising his hands and presenting the shadowy figure to the tribe. Only the whites of Kiowa's eyes can be seen.

"Welcome to our ranks, brother! Now you are a Dog Warrior like your father," the warriors shout. The people respond with cries of their own.

Kida grins at Kiowa. She is now a beautiful woman. A single white swan feather dangles from her silky black hair. It brushes against her beaded buckskin dress, which hugs her bulging breasts.

Now he is a warrior for his people and his people will embrace him, she thinks with a hunger in her eyes Kiowa can't ignore. Now I will fulfill my destiny and bear warriors for the tribe.

The Woodcraft Indians wrap their arms around their chilled legs and envision what it would be like to be at the Indian dance.

The scoutmaster clears his throat and runs his fingers along his whiskers. His eyes are focused, and he tells the story as though he were there.

"As the years pass like grains of sand in the hourglass, the Kiowa tribe grows in numbers. When the winter comes, they travel down to the southlands, where the pine forests and prairie grass recede to desert lands and red rocky mountains."

"How many miles?" John asks.

"Many."

"Did they ride horses?" he asks.

"How else do you think they got along?" Luther mocks him.

John rattles off one of many questions.

Charlie ignores him and continues. "Paw, Makes Trouble, Kiowa, Two Moons, and Weasel Tail ride their horses miles in front of their tribe, scouting for water and lurking dangers, so as to avoid ambush and such by the other tribes."

"Look!" Two Moons shouts, pointing to a trailing plume of smoke off in the distance.

Moon Beam sits up on the back of Night Wind. He looks at the smoke trail, then back at Kiowa. He chirps in a way that catches Kiowa's attention.

"The Hopi village," Weasel Tail says, thinking of the furs he planned to trade for beads and booze.

"Must be a war party," Paw concludes.

"Who would attack the Hopi? They seek peace, not war," Kiowa says skeptically. Kiowa has never personally traded with the Hopi—that was a right reserved for the barterers in the tribe—but he had heard stories.

For no obvious reason, Kiowa feels a swift swelling rage circle inside like a burning tornado. He isn't sure why the idea of someone hurting the innocent bothers him so much, but it reminds him of his gentle friends, the deer.

Moon Beam leaps off Night Wind and cackles. He runs away, then back. He prances in the most unusual manner.

"You have had that fox too long. He thinks himself Indian. Look how he dances." Paw points at the strangely behaving animal.

"I want to know who carries cowardice in their hearts," Kiowa growls. He looks at Moon Beam and notices that his emerald eyes seem to glow in a different way. It's as if the silver fox is saying, Follow this way. The demigod turns and runs off, giving no sign of coming back.

"Moon Beam, wait!" Kiowa yells.

"I think we should ride on," Makes Trouble says, kicking at his brown mustang's side.

"Moon Beam, come back!" Kiowa shouts. The silver fox takes off in a panic. He looks back to ensure he's being followed. When he sees that he's being chased, he darts toward the Hopi village.

"MOON BEAM, NO!"

"Four against how many?" Two Moons asks, wondering the size of the enemy.

Kiowa kicks at his horse's side and gives chase to Moon Beam.

Paw follows Kiowa. He turns his head and shouts over his shoulder, "Weasel Tail, warn the tribe."

 **Message from the author:** Another day another war. One of the things I love about the Kiowa tribe is their sense of right and wrong. I read a story where they acquired a captive from the Apache. A captive that was being treated very poorly. They threatened to kill the Apache if they didn't release the captive, a risk the Apache weren't willing to take. They brought the captive into their tribe and made him one of their own. He rose to a high position. Married a Kiowa woman and had Kiowa children. His story is "Andele: Or, The Mexican-Kiowa Captive." While you're checking that book out on Amazon, you should check my book out, "Harvest Moon," by Zachary H. Lovelady. I could use some reviews. I'm doing my best to bring the story to life on instagram. You can find my channel harvestmoonofficial. What are you waiting for? The love story begins in the next chapter!


	24. Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

"Shear her?" whoops a Navajo warrior with a pudgy belly and crazy eyes. "Why not scalp them both?" He lifts a brown whiskey bottle. Anoki watches his pronounced Adam's apple rise and fall beneath a less-pronounced jaw. When he lowers the bottle, the devil's water erases any sign of humanity. An unquenchable rage accentuates his anger by flexing what little muscle he has.

"She is too pretty to scalp. I will be the one to shear her!" A more muscular Navajo warrior grins wickedly. He tilts his bowl-cut head and lasciviously focuses on Anoki's voluptuous chest.

"We will not get as good a price from the Mexicans if she is sheared." He looks down at his knife and grunts. His groan is followed by a drunken hiccup. "Okay, then, we're going to burn this adobe hut down and trade your whole family for more whiskey. What do you think of that, Hopi Princess?"

"WHY?!" Anoki shrieks. She does the impossible and tries to reason with madness. Her black silk hair is braided like rope and rolled into tight wide buns on each side of her head. Her white deerskin moccasins mark her as pure. Her beaded attire glistens, making her look like a jewel. Everything about her entices her enemy. Her beauty. Her dress. Her belongings. Her rank. Her bloodline. All of it.

Tonight was supposed to be a special night. Anoki was dressed for the Hopi summer solstice dance. As princess, she was the main attraction.

An older man, her father, Kikmongwi, king chief, lies at her feet. He's been badly beaten by the drunken Navajo, who toy with their victims like cats playing with frail mice. Anoki's courage and puny tomahawk are the only things that stand between the drunken Navajo raiders and her father's scalp.

"I told you it would be best to attack while they dance to Wuko'uyis."

"Move aside, girl!"

"I will not!" she shouts.

"We four Navajo warriors have more scalps on our belts than fingers and toes in this room. Do you really think you can stop us from adding the high king's scalp to our belt?"

"Look at her braids. She is just a single lonely girl with no husband to defend her. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

Anoki winds up her tomahawk and readies for a swing as they begin to swarm her. "GET BACK! Leave us be. Return my sister and my mother, or I will hurt you!"

The more aggressive Navajo points at himself and counts aloud. "I see one, two, three, four of us. And only two of you."

"My father is not responsible for sour meats or bad seeds."

"YOUR PEOPLE ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR EVERYTHING!" the crazy-eyed Navajo shouts, thrusting his spear into her father's leg.

Kikmongwi cries out, which causes the Navajo to cackle like a pack of coyotes.

"SAVAGES!" Anoki curses them. But they wear her insult like a badge of honor, and they feed on whiskey and misery.

Anoki puts up a good fight. But inside she is as fragile as glass, and her cracks show when her father screams. She can bear anything but the pain-filled cries of her father. Her heart sinks. She does not show her attackers. Instead, she clenches her teeth, flexes her jaw, raises her weapon, and attacks.

She leaps forward and slams the blade down on the Navajo's foot. He drops his spear and screams as he hops up and down.

"Leave us alone!" Anoki blasts, wishing she could have cracked his skull.

The Navajo laugh when the injured Indian hops up and down on one foot. He abruptly stops, turns, and slaps Anoki across the face.

She falls to the ground as though she were made of leaves instead of flesh and bone. She presses her hand to her burning cheek and reaches for her father. Instead of relenting, she grabs the tomahawk, though she feels her security slip away as the Navajo pack circle around her like wolves. She can feel her cheek swell. She can taste blood.

Now is a good time to be diplomatic, she thinks. "Please don't hurt my father. Toss him the band of mercy hanging from your wrist," she begs.

Crazy Eyes lifts the red-and-yellow band up and howls.

"We have paid a high price for your trade!"

"You haven't even begun to pay, Hopi Princess!" Crazy Eyes barks, untying a knot that holds his animal-skin pants up.

Anoki gasps at the progressing horror. She feels her spirit sink to dark, unimaginable depths as she realizes the price she's about to pay for defending her father. Her head swirls. With the last bit of energy she can muster, she pushes her legs together and wraps her hands around her knees. Rocking back and forth, she prays that she has the strength to fight these vile men until life leaves her tiny little frame.

Crazy Eyes unsheathes his rust-stained scalping knife. He tears at Anoki's clothes.

"No!" she shouts, resisting his assault.

Her husky assailant responds by punching her in the face.

Her whole body convulses from the blow. She sees white flashes that nearly blind her, but she knows if she keeps up the fight, the Navajo will grow tired and stab her to death, which in her mind is better than being defiled next to her tormented father. "Oh, that this was any other day. Think of happy thoughts, Father. Do not let these be the last images you see of your precious daughter, your sweet Anoki." Darkness closes in around her.

Through hazy vision, she sees the angry Crazy Eyes raise his knife. Her stomach muscles tighten. She feels an agonizing pain and closes her eyes.

Good! she thinks. Death is better! She focuses on the monster's twisted face. The evil in his wide, cruel eyes maximizes her fear and makes her hope that his knife will penetrate fast and free her spirit quickly. But then his eyes suddenly seem to soften.

Among the stench of liquor, the filthy Navajo, the heat of the swelling flames, the laughing demons, her wounded father, and her imminent murder, the impossible happens. An arrow whistles past her head and punctures her attacker's beefy chest. If Anoki had gold, its value would be nothing compared to the confused expression on Crazy Eyes's face. Senseless rage turns to agony. She feels the tight tension in her face fade into a modest, righteous smile.

The Navajo drops his knife and grips the arrow. He struggles for breath, which causes blood to spurt out of the wound like a bubbling geyser.

Another arrow strikes her assailant through his arm, pinning the appendage to his chest. The knife he intended to use cannot be used to cut her now. Now it's her turn to laugh. The villain's evil face turns from agony to regret.

Anoki flashes through all the men in her tribe who could help, and she can't think of one. What Hopi would help me when his own family is at risk? That isn't our nature. We protect ourselves first when danger is all around.

Crazy Eyes tries to speak, but his strength fails him. Instead, he falls dead to the agonizing melody of his wicked friend's laughter. It is not a sound he likes, and his death mask indicates it.

Kiowa's bow creaks. The string twangs, and his arrow flashes through the air. His aim is deadly. Not that he would need to be accurate at such close proximity. He strikes another evil man through the flexing, laughing neck.

Choking cries surprise the other Navajo, and the last two men scramble.

Kiowa and Paw smash through the pueblo's clay wall. Anoki sees a flash of feathers attached to a bonnet. Black war paint covers their foreheads and streaks down the sides of their faces. It continues around their jawlines and ends in yellow circles at their chins.

There, see! That is what a good Indian should do. Run! Anoki thinks as she presses her hand to her head to stabilize the rocking motion.

Before the Navajo can escape, Two Moons and Makes Trouble seize their victims from behind.

 **A word:** Is it right to enter a fight that isn't your own? Do the weak deserve a defense? What would you have done if you were the Kiowa? I'd like to think I would get in the fight, but if I had a family to lose, I might reconsider. I'd like to know what you think, so leave your comments below.

I'm sure you've read this somewhere before, but I'm going to say it again... this book is available on Amazon. You can find it if you search for "Harvest Moon" by Zachary H. Lovelady. I've worked pretty hard on this book and I'm working even harder to bring the story to life on Instagram. You can see my art on harvestmoonofficial. I built this for you, and I hope you like this masterpiece. Ah-hoe, the journey begins.


	25. Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

With the crook of his arm, Makes Trouble forces the man's chin high and exposes the Navajo's neck. In one swift motion he proves his name true.

Two Moons stomps the back of his opponent's knee. He feels the man's body slide into his. His steel blade slices across the man's neck. Blood spurts out of the wounds and spills down the quivering man's chest. His flailing body falls to the earth, where Make's Trouble is quick to scalp him.

Anoki gags and turns away. Her head swirls even faster, and she feels like she's going to vomit. Why? Why are these men doing this? she thinks.

The Kiowa warriors look at each other with great satisfaction.

"Why are we here?" Two Moons asks with a broad smile.

"Because Moon Beam led us here," Kiowa answers.

"What do we do with them?" Makes Trouble demands, pointing his bloody blade at Anoki.

"What? Why?" Anoki asks Kiowa as he kneels down and reaches for her. She jerks back and resists. "I see you want to steal us from the Navajo!" She searches for her tomahawk and regrets losing it. Looking down at her stomach for the first time, she sees that she is not stabbed at all. It was just her way of anticipating the pain. Oh, I have no appetite for this, her face tells Kiowa as she groans.

Kiowa gently puts his hands on her arms and looks deep into her eyes. "No," is all he says.

I thought the Navajo were savage, she thinks, trying to keep her eyes open. I see now that the Kiowa are truly savage and perfectly wild.

Paw looks out the window. "I see plenty of Navajo moving from house to house. But I don't see Moon Beam. What is your plan now, Nephew?"

"We will have to come back for him. No doubt the Navajo will want revenge when they see what we've done here," Two Moons warns them.

Kiowa lingers longer than he should. Where Anoki saw anarchy, Kiowa felt calm and a strange peace as he gleaned her beauty. He shakes her to keep her awake.

"Are you strong enough to walk?"

Anoki understands his foreign tongue. She doesn't answer. Instead, she focuses on his soft, gentle eyes.

Two Moons and Makes Trouble help lift Anoki's wounded father.

"Come, Daughter, you must walk because I cannot run." He motions for Anoki to follow him.

She struggles to stand. Kiowa slides his arm around her small waist and helps her to her trembling feet.

The Kiowa war party is on the move. They stealthily slip in and out of the shadows as though they themselves were shadows.

Two Moons, Paw, and Makes Trouble manipulate the unsuspecting corners into death traps for the lingering drunk Navajo raiders. Their skill and oneness are things the Navajo, who feel themselves victorious, lack.

"We are swift," Makes Trouble whispers to Paw as he moves to a shadow.

"We are silent," Paw whispers back, pressing himself against the adobe wall.

"We are deadly," Two Moons says loud enough for them to hear as he unleashes an arrow that drops, but doesn't kill, a Navajo carrying an armful of Hopi skins. The wounded warrior reaches down. He wraps his fingers around Two Moons's arrow and pulls with all his might. The arrow's shaft comes out easily enough, but the arrowhead stays in. He holds it up to his face and examines the colors and markings to see if he can identify his unseen enemy.

"Kiowa? We have no quarrel with you!"

Makes Trouble sprints from the shadows and buries his tomahawk in the Navajo's skull.

Two Moons extracts his tomahawk, then swipes as he says, "Knock, knock. Is the master of the house home? If so, send him out. There is a war party here to greet him."

WHACK.

He quickly unsheathes his scalping knife and separates the man's hair from his head. He moves so fast, Paw can't help but be proud.

"See there, Makes Trouble. A little courage in your heart goes a long way, does it not?" Paw asks.

Makes Trouble smiles, forgetting it was he who wanted nothing to do with this fight.

"At the scalp dance, we will dance to your bravery instead of your fear," Two Moons says with a proud nod.

Kiowa leads Anoki and her father to his black mustang. He helps her father up and then turns to help her.

"I can get up by myself," Anoki protests. She takes several deep breaths to calm herself down.

Kiowa nods as she puts her shaking hands on the horse. He gently rests his hands on her hips and feels a pile of leaves swirl inside his stomach. What is wrong with me?

He lifts her up with ease. Her fear melts away like ice during the summer. A surprising giddiness replaces it. She kicks her legs several times, fluttering her moccasins up the sides of the black mustang. After she swings her leg over the horse's back, she takes a long moment to face Kiowa. She does this to calm her nerves and put on her bravest, sternest face.

Kiowa retracts his hands. Now, that is a fine, proud, brave woman. I have never seen beauty like hers, he thinks to himself. When he takes his hands off, she regains her senses and feels her fear return.

Caught between mixed emotions, Anoki grumbles. She's frustrated that her independence is invaded by both friend and foe. And she isn't entirely sure which one Kiowa is.

Kiowa hands her the reins and her tomahawk, a good sign, but the Navajo gave plenty of good signs, too.

Anoki grips her tomahawk with such a firmness that her fingers feel numb and begin to tingle. She isn't sure whether she should follow Kiowa or not.

She lifts the tomahawk and feels her arms tremble. Bury this blade in his skull and then run, Anoki! Her thoughts scream in the sanctuary of her mind. Run like the Hopi girl you are and protect yourself, and don't forget your father.

Kiowa looks up at her and can't help but notice how she holds the tomahawk. He smiles.

His smile keeps her in place with eyes firmly fixed on his handsome face. You have caught me at a bad time, my would-be hero. If you are my hero? I am not very beautiful with this swollen cheek and bloody face. Certainly, you are a hero. You wouldn't help my father if you were stealing us away. Would you? No, you would kill him and rape me if you were evil, she thinks, looking over her shoulder.

She smiles back as she sees Kiowa's band killing the Navajo with such ease that she wonders why she was ever afraid at all.

Anoki presses her hand to her throbbing cheek and looks over the blazing village. The extensive flickering flames tower and illuminate the village roads, telling a story of heartbreak. We can rebuild. We can regrow. But what am I to do about my mother and sister? Bodies litter the dirt roads, and the dogs waste no time in lapping up the pools of blood from masters who loved them and the enemies who would have eaten them. Both are alike to the dogs in their own deliciousness.

Anoki feels the crushing weight of the successful raid and detects the disgusting scent of her people's bodies burning in their homes. Some are still screaming. She turns away, trying to wash the images out of her mind with tears that trickle, then stream to form an ocean of deep sorrow. She trembles with fright and feels as though she's going to black out. What can I do?

 **The authors thoughts:** Poor Anoki. So brave. So pretty. So hurt. Lucky for her Kiowa was there to save her. I wonder how he feels about her? I wonder how the tribe will feel about her? Read on to find out what happens next.

Get the whole book on Amazon "Harvest Moon," by Zachary H. Lovelady. Also see my characters come to life on instagram: harvestmoonofficial


	26. Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

In that frozen moment, Kiowa steals the longest glance at Anoki. Her soft features come together in complete perfection. He overlooks her blemishes since he's used to seeing painted faces. Half of Anoki's face is as smooth as a pearl. Her eyes are a light walnut brown. Her high cheekbones give every facet of her beauty a different elegance with each turn of her slender, petite neck. His heart feels a spark, which forces his eyes to see those facets.

Am I falling, or am I flying? he wonders. He inhales, detecting the aroma of vanilla, lavender, and honeysuckle. Do not show too much interest or she will doubt your true intentions, he thinks, lowering his smile to a frown. Do not show too little interest or someone else will, he counters his thoughts. The back-and-forth lifts his frown to a flat, cornerless smile. Think of something to say.

"How have you trapped the wild in your skin?" he asks her, but she doesn't respond.

What is wild about my skin? Anoki thinks, then shrugs, realizing her face must be worse than she thought.

Kiowa can't help but wonder why her rustic skin has more of a red undertone than his.

Why do your lips look like two wild rose petals pressed together? He sees her small frame expand and fight for a shallow breath. Oh, if Moon Beam were here, he would calm me. You would be the first person I would let pet him and take his sacred magic from me.

Anoki struggles to steady her swirling head. In all the effort to keep a stern face, she held her breath too long. She blinks several times, trying to understand why the stars have lost their place and swim in her eyes. She loses strength and feels herself falling. She watches helplessly as a closing circle of darkness forms around Kiowa's handsome face. His head turns sideways, then disappears into fading black.

Kiowa's biceps flex as he extends his arms and swiftly catches her. "You're as light as a feather and as pretty as a dove," he says softly. He wants to kiss her, but his lips recede like waves on a beach. That is against Indian law! he chastises himself.

Before this night, I did not even know a woman could be so beautiful. Fire Boy and Water Boy, are you demigods playing some trick on me? Or did you plant a heap of treasure in my hands because I killed Black Bear?

The wind catches loose strands of her fine raven hair and sweeps them across his face. They brush against his cheek. He holds her firm with one hand as he presses the tickling fibers to his skin and inhales.

"So this is how a spider catches a butterfly," he whispers, careful not to make any sudden moves. "Which of us is which? If I am the butterfly, I feel so light I could float above your string. If I am the spider, I set you free, but only to draw you back again."

He closes his eyes and inhales. He feels her spirit leap from her body into his mind and run on a never-ending coast. In his vision, she rides a white horse. Glittering stars explode like shooting comets that cross the sky with long glittering tails.

The spark catches and ignites a burning sun of passion in his heart. Warmth rises from his chest to his cheeks. "You are safe with me little bird," he whispers between hushed whooshing. The closer he pulls her in, the warmer he feels. What is this powerful sunlight that cascades across my sky and paints my world the colors of the sun? For some reason, the stars do not disappear, but come closer and dazzle all around her. A moon of hope shines its powerful rays on her face. Her spirit reaches for him, and he wants nothing more than to take her hand and follow wherever she leads.

When he opens his eyes, he speaks so softly he nearly whispers, "What joyful winds do you stir inside of me?" He gently touches the palm of his hand to her cheek. "I did not know my heart could have love in it until tonight. I thought it was emptied by Chief Black Bear. Am I awake, or am I asleep? Am I hungry, or am I full? I am confused. Paw says that love is blind and it can happen at any moment. But when my eyes rest on you, I cannot help but feel your beauty pour into me and fill me up. No arrow could hit its mark if the bowman's eyes are closed. I must keep my eyes wide open. I must be hungry, but not for food. What, then?"

What time passed must have been only seconds. But in the eternities of love, time is conquered. It vanishes in a thousand moments.

You have created a starry heaven of possibility inside me, Kiowa thinks as her beauty pours into his eyes and fills him up.

He tries to hold the moment, but her short gasps bring him back to the harsh reality of this world. He is running from the Navajo. Or running to her? He can't decide. However he's doing it, he is running.

"Peace," he says. "Be not afraid. Taime blew me into your life, and I am here to protect you."

Fading in and out of reality, Anoki catches words. Glances. Impressions. All of which mix, make no sense, then evaporate. She knows only one thing for certain. She is waking in strong arms. Arms she feels supremely safe in.

Who is this man that catches this tumbleweed? she wonders. She blinks and pushes on his firm chest in a way that lets him know she can stand on her own.

Kiowa lifts her back onto his horse and asks, "Can you ride?" He hands her the reins.

Anoki takes the leather straps. A new fear emerges. It annoys her that so many fears have been revealed in one night. What happens when he leaves?

He swats his horse and sends wounded father and brave daughter sprinting off into the night. They disappear in the darkness.

Kiowa circles back to the village and reunites with his band. He looks at the scalped Navajos and smiles at their limp bodies.

"You are all going to pay for what you have done! One way or another, I promise that I will see it to its end!" Kiowa pledges with a blood oath.

Makes Trouble proudly holds fistfuls of bloody scalps up, along with the reins to six Navajo horses, which nearly lead him rather than him lead them. He smiles when he sees Kiowa. "They are going to be so mad when they find us."

Paw and Two Moons pull eight pinto horses by their reins. The raid is successful.

"Where's the girl?" Two Moons inquires.

"I sent them out on our horses. I think Night Wind will lead them to the last place he had good water," Kiowa answers.

"Up in the pine forest? That is good. They will be safe." Paw nods.

Makes Trouble and Kiowa mount new horses, as Paw and Two Moons ride up beside them. The group slips into the night.

"Where we do we go now?" Two Moons asks his brother.

"The Hopi cannot come to our village. They are outsiders. No one will welcome them," Makes Trouble blurts out.

Kiowa's face sours. "We will decide what to do with them if we meet up with them. If we don't, they can keep our horses. We have many more than we came with. That is a good trade!"

"Look!" Paw catches a distant flicker of motion. "The Navajo are coming back. They must have felt so confident in their raid, they lit torches. They have greater numbers than us." He counts their growing lights and huffs.

"Why are they lighting torches?" Makes Trouble asks.

"They will need light to track us in the dark," Two Moons respond.

"Should we lead them back to the tribe?" Kiowa wonders.

"Yes, Kiowa, lets wake our tribe in the middle of the night with the war cry of who knows how many Navajo hot on our heels?!"

"Next time we use Cheyenne arrows. That way the Navajo will not be looking for Kiowa." Makes Trouble smirks.

Two Moons agrees. "Aiye! I have a quiver of Cheyenne arrows back in my tepee."

For a brief moment each man plays out several different scenarios of how their actions will bring the wrath of the Navajo. They rattle some off and come to one solid conclusion.

Paw speaks what everyone thinks. "Navajo need no reason to attack. They will just attack."

"By now they will have dispatched riders to bring the rest of the warriors, and who knows how many that will be?" Two Moons wonders.

The calmness of the warriors is remarkably out of character for the dangers they now face.

 **Authors thoughts:** I'm a sucker for a good love story. Kiowa, that great bandit who wants to steal Anoki's heart, but he can't because he's on the run. I won't bore you with many details, I'll just say that Anoki and Kiowa have an incredible love story to share. Read on to find out what happens next!

Or go buy the book on Amazon. Yes you can get it on kindle. Search for "Harvest Moon," by Zachary H. Lovelady. Also come see the characters on instagram. "harvestmoonofficial" is my user name.


	27. Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

"One set of tracks will lead them to the Hopi princess…"

"She's a princess? How do you know that?" Kiowa asks.

"Focus on escape, Kiowa!" Two Moons scolds his brother.

"If I were the Navajo, I would not chase one set of tracks. I would follow the greater number and get my ponies back," Makes Trouble says.

"Which would be our trail," Paw calmly adds as he paints his face black.

"If we go on foot, our numbers will look bigger," Makes Trouble proposes.

"True. If we dismount and send all these horses off in another direction, the Navajo may chase the men on foot or they may run after the horses," Paw contemplates.

"If I had horses, I would track down the warriors on foot." Kiowa confidently nods, seeing the pieces of his friends' plan slowly come together.

"Maybe if there are only two of us, they will feel more confident hunting us." Makes Trouble rubs his thumb on his chin and works out the final pieces to a master plan. "If we can run to the river's edge and jump in so that the currents carry us away, the Navajo will have no tracks to follow," Makes Trouble says with an "aha" expression.

Kiowa thinks it through, then nods and says, "So long as we have the night. If we don't make it by daylight, they will surely have no problem hunting us down in this vast desert and taking our scalps."

"You will need this," Two Moons says, passing his knife and flint stone to Kiowa.

"If I don't make it back, Paw, give all of these horses and treasures to my mother and sisters. Tell them I am sorry for letting the wind carry my spirit away," Makes Trouble says with a quirky smile.

Kiowa and Makes Trouble lift their bows and take only a few arrows. Two Moons and Paw sprint off with the horses and the bounty.

"I'm leaving this raid rich with many scalps and armloads of bounty. What are you leaving with, Kiowa?"

Kiowa perks up and boldly declares, "A vision that is worth a thousand raids. I have seen my future, and I am rich in love."

Makes Trouble's face puckers up with the sourest expression. "We are young and have many raids and female conquests. Why would you let one Hopi girl get in the way of all that life has to offer?"

Kiowa smiles and shakes his head. "Paw says if you chase two rabbits at the same time, you will catch neither. All you will catch is what you had to begin with, an empty hand."

Makes Trouble grumbles in contemplation.

Suddenly, Makes Trouble stomps. He looks down at his foot and says, "Kiowa! An idea has just leapt into my mind. Walk around in a small circle, like this." He motions with his finger. "Step over my tracks until we have a whole heap of tracks overlapping in a big circle."

"Makes Trouble, you have the wisdom of owls. Now the Navajo will see the horses' tracks and all these tracks and struggle over which fight will be easier to win."

Makes Trouble beams from the compliment. He stares at Kiowa with a warm smile that brightens his face in their dark hour. "You really think I am as wise as the owl?"

Kiowa nods. "I know you are! Why else would I do this?" He hoops and howls as he stomps around in a widening circle.

Shocked by his comrade's erratic behavior, Makes Trouble's smile melts away to disgust.

"If I am as wise as an owl, then you are as stupid as a squirrel. Why are you yelling? Don't you know they will find us with all that noise you are making?"

"That is my hope, my would-be brother. These deserts are vast, and they may not see our trickery."

Makes Trouble thinks on this for a moment as he watches Kiowa shout, "Beaver dung! We are here to take your scalps and all your ponies! You are falling into our trap!"

In the distance, Makes Trouble sees the Navajos' torches consolidate into one flaming circle. He quickly counts twenty or so.

Unable to resist the invitation for trouble, Makes Trouble shouts, "Your bodies look like gopher dung and your mothers have made you like themselves."

Kiowa looks at his friend in disbelief. "Where has all this wisdom come from?"

Makes Trouble smiles and shrugs. He points to the stars. "The stars send me messages that my ears can now hear."

"Your magic is working, and I can see it in your face." Kiowa nods at the Navajo. "No Indian would stand an insult to his mother. They will most definitely find us now and probably skin us alive."

Makes Trouble rubs his arms, not wanting to part with his skin. "What do we do?"

"You are the wise one. I will follow your lead."

"Then we had better get to the river!"

The two run off as fast as their long legs will carry their muscular frames.

Within moments, the Navajo ride up on Makes Trouble and Kiowa's handiwork. They lower their torches and circle around the tracks, trying to get an idea of how many Kiowa warriors they face.

"A pack of warriors on horseback have broken off and run toward the mountains. Two men of foot run off toward the river. What would you have us do?" Jumping Bear, the father of Crazy Eyes, asks the chief.

The Navajo chief, Old Red Eagle, examines the tracks and wonders where such a large number would be. He uses his eagle-like vision for lumps in the earth, to see if the Kiowa have buried their bodies in the earth. "Be ready for anything!" When he's satisfied that no ambush awaits him, he circles around several times and wonders where such a large force would be. It doesn't take him long to realize that so many warriors could not simply disappear into thin air. No, we would hear their whooping war cry for certain.

"Look here. If they had all these men, they would engage in battle, and why would two sets of tracks run off?" he asks.

The Navajo search one another's blank faces.

From a distance, Old Red Eagle hears the faint shouts of Kiowa and Makes Trouble. "You are uglier than goats, and your fathers have bred with gopher mothers to make the ugliest Indians of all the Indian nations!"

"They taunt us," Jumping Bear growls at his grunting band of Navajo warriors.

"Yes, but why?" Old Red Eagle asks.

"They want a fight. There are fewer of them than those on horseback," Jumping Bear determines.

Old Red Eagle agrees. "True, and the horses are most likely leading us into an ambush. I think we catch these two fools and make them pay for the injustice they have done to our people."

"Let us pursue the men whose tongues insult our mothers." Jumping Bear shouts, swinging his large stone club.

Old Red Eagle unsheathes his knife and shouts, "By the light of the moon we will give chase. We will cut their tongues out of their mouths, slice open their bellies, and let the sun burn their entrails while they are still alive!"

"Yet ya!" the Navajo warriors chant.

"No, our mothers will keep them alive while ants tear their flesh down to their bones one tiny piece at a time."

"Yet ya!"

The Navajo mount their horses and chase their enemies.

"All Navajo are made from all the dung of every animal and bug in all the worlds!" Makes Trouble shouts, living up to his name.

"What are these other worlds you speak of?" Kiowa asks, astonished at the thought of worlds other than this one.

"I don't know. It just makes sense that the great creator made more than one. Do you have only one arrow? Do you have only one brother? Does my father only have one wife? No! Of course there are other worlds."

Kiowa stares at his transformed friend in awe. "I never knew that trouble could turn to wisdom." His awe is interrupted by the shouts of the Navajo.

"YOUR DEATH WILL BE DREADFUL, KIOWA!" Old Red Eagle hollers.

"COWARDS! STAND AND FIGHT US!" Jumping Bear whoops.

As the morning light begins to illuminate their activities, the wise Kiowa warriors split up.

"How are we to pursue both at the same time?" Old Red Eagle asks.

"We cannot."

"What do we do?"

"Can it be determined which is the slowest to catch? If it can, let us pursue him."

"And let the other go free? After he has killed our warriors, insulted our mothers, and led us on a wild chase?"

"Then let us break into two and run them to the ends of the earth. Be wary, though, brothers. One of these warriors might lead us back to their tribe."

The Navajo think on these words for a brief moment.

"The holy people won't stand for this. The Kiowa have disrupted our way of life. Now, because we have less, we will not be able to trade for the things we need from the Spaniards."

"And we will be out of harmony. I see. So you believe we must destroy these two warriors to bring back harmony?" Old Red Eagle asks.

Jumping Bear nods. "Two men are easier to kill than an entire tribe. One of them has killed and scalped my son. Let us ride after each of them, but if you think an ambush is possible, run for your lives. There is no honor in death. And since we are the only holy people on earth, let us live."

With that they exchange brief glances, sign to one another the directions they are going, and off they ride, chasing Kiowa and Makes Trouble, who have now had enough time to slip into the river and escape downstream.

 **Me thinks a foul a foot:** OMG, this is so miuch fun isn't it? Tricking the Navajo. Saving a Hopi Princess. Stealing horses and scalps. Life doesn't get much better if you're Makes Trouble. But for Kiowa, something has stirred his soul. Has that ever happened to you? I will never forget the first time it happened to me. For the ladies out there reading this book, pay close attention to what happens to Kiowa. If you want to know what its like for a man falling in love, his symptoms are algebraic. No need for you to waste your time reading this blurb, read on tribe! 


	28. Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

Thirty miles in the opposite direction, Paw and Two Moons catch up to Anoki and Kikmongwi. They lead them on a hard ride up a steep mountain. The horses heave and sweat up the rocky incline. Riders fight their horses to keep control. The morning sun raises the temperature.

Once they reach the top, they seek cover in a thick pine forest. Paw and Two Moons dismount their horses and pull them by the reins. They quickly tie them off and scan over the valley to ensure that they weren't followed.

"We will treat your wounds with our magic," Two Moons informs Kikmongwi. He grabs his pouch and opens it. "I cannot tell you what these roots are because they are sacred magic. But I assure you, your wounds will be healed."

"How do I give it to him?" Anoki asks.

"You mix it with water and let him sip it slowly."

"I'll start a fire." Anoki leans down and start picking up pinecones.

Paw and Two Moons look at each other with disapproving frowns.

"If you light a fire, the Navajo are sure to find you."

"How will I warm the water so that he may drink your magic?"

Two Moons walks over to his horse. He returns with a buffalo bladder full of water. "Put this out in the sun."

"We should go back to the tribe and tell them what has transpired," Paw urges Two Moons.

"If you leave us here, all I ask is that you leave us one horse," Kikmongwi begs. He holds up one finger and points to the horse in case his broken Kiowa isn't understood. "Everything we have is in the village," he says, shaking his head.

Two Moons grunts, "What do you offer for trade?"

"What are they saying?" Kikmongwi asks his daughter.

"They want to trade something for the horses," Anoki answers.

"Tell them they can keep all of those worthless pinto ponies. Just leave that beautiful black mustang," Kikmongwi proposes.

"My father says to keep the horses. Since the black horse was given to us, we ask that you leave it with us until the owner returns to decide what should be done."

Paw squints at Anoki. His stern face does not match his thoughts. What a good little woman, looking after her father that way. I wonder what Kiowa would want me to do. Probably keep his horse, I would imagine.

"What do you think, Uncle?"

"Night Wind is the finest horse I have ever seen. Kiowa would be hurt to be without him."

"There it is. We keep the horse. But I think we should wait for Kiowa. He has no horse to ride," Two Moons answers, leading Kiowa's jet-black horse up the trail.

Anoki translates for her father and makes signs in Kiowa so that they will all understand.

"You sign better than you speak," Paw tells Anoki.

"Our tribe trades, and it was my duty to barter and translate deals," Anoki replies. "We will pay a high price if you help us retrieve my sister, Mali, and my mother, Proud Woman."

"Translate what I say," Two Moons tells her.

Anoki turns toward her father and signs that she's going to translate.

"Do not fear us. As I have said, we will protect you with our magic. I do not want to mislead you or to be misunderstood. Our numbers are small, and we cannot help you find your wife or your daughter. You should be grateful we were able to save you."

Anoki feels like she's going to collapse. She forces herself to be strong.

"For the harm we inflicted on their tribe, the Navajo won't stop looking for us until they catch us. It would be better for you and your daughter to stay with us until we have the force of our tribe. That is all the protection either of you will get."

Kikmongwi glances at his daughter. She remembers that her father always made better deals with the Kiowa because they were a war tribe and he wanted to stay in good favor. Trust few Indians, but above all, trust no tribe, he had taught her. She has immediate doubts since she overheard Makes Trouble mention that the tribe "would not accept them."

In the past, trade relations had always been good. But that was when the Hopi had things the Kiowa wanted. Anoki had never been on the side of wanting or needing anything from any tribe. She grew up privileged in the sense that she knew what independence was and she valued it. What leverage do we have among strangers? I cannot fight. I cannot help. I have nothing to barter, and so, Mother, I will save Father. Mali, my sweet sister and cherished friend, forgive me. Anoki presses her hand to her heart to cover up the two holes the Navajo have carved out.

"Once we return to our city, my father will show you our appreciation." Anoki doesn't like being so far from the safety of her cliff dwelling. Besides, she won't admit it, but she wants to thank Kiowa. Oh, and see his face in the light of day.

"You two stay here," Paw orders. "We need to go higher so we can see in all directions."

Paw and Two Moons move up a steep incline. They have to lean so far forward they could nearly kiss the earth. When they reach the cliff face, they help each other climb up the smooth beige curved sides.

Paw locks his fingers together and motions for Two Moons to step on them. He lifts his nephew up and waits for him to offer his hand in return. When Two Moons turns around, the feathers tied to his hair tickle Paw's face. He blows at them and waves them away.

"Why did we save them?" Two Moons asks his uncle. "The women of our tribe won't want a Hopi princess anywhere near them."

Paw grunts as Two Moons pulls up him the cliff. Paw pauses for a moment and reflects on what his brother, Lone Wolf, might say to his son to bring clarity to his cloudy mind. "I once killed a bobcat who caught a small yellow bird with a bright orange beak. It was such a pretty little thing, I was pleased to remove it from the jaws of death. I carefully inspected its wings and feet to ensure that if I released it, it would survive. I then held it up to my lips and whispered to it, 'Shall I let you go or use your feathers to make a bracelet?'"

Two Moons stops scanning the low lands for dust trails and looks at his uncle with a confused expression.

"I didn't know you could speak to birds."

"I can't. But I could feel its little heart pounding against my fingers and I knew that the bird wanted to live."

Paw holds his hand up and waves it over the earth, then points at Anoki and her father. "I do not know that another cat will not catch these birds. I only know that if we release them, they will fly. All creatures seem to want every moment this life has to offer, and I cannot seem to summon the dark power it takes to stop their beating hearts."

Two Moons thinks on these words. He sits down and crosses his legs. He doesn't see the Navajo below, and that gives him satisfaction that the Hopi have escaped the jaws of death. He looks behind him and sees a distant dust cloud that he believes to be his tribe. The thought of the bird being caught by a new cat disturbs him. Like his uncle, he knows that he cannot summon the dark powers to kill so beautiful a creature as Anoki. Though he wants the numbers of his tribe, he begins to wonder if that is the best path for these two birds.

Later that evening, as dusk is turning to night, Kiowa picks up on Anoki's trail. Ha! I knew Night Wind would not fail me. The excitement fades at the thought of approaching her. For some reason, an anxious feeling washes over him and makes him tremble. He stops and sits down for a moment, wondering what this strange creeping fear is that hums in his bones and numbs his chest.

I should go back to my tribe and get the numbers to take on the Navajo, he thinks, wanting to secure a sure victory. But then again, it would be soooo nice to see Anoki. He closes his eyes and remembers Anoki's beautiful face. He recounts every detail, from her smooth russet skin to her high cheekbones, her big round doe eyes and her rose-petal lips. He lifts his arms, reaching for her memory as if he could hold it.

"I have to get back to Pa. Back to Makes Trouble. Back to Anoki."

He stops and blinks wildly.

"Why am I always thinking of Anoki?"

His face lifts with a giddy smile, "I want to kiss those lips," he confesses with a shiver.

He lowers his hands and closes his eyes again, to see if her image remains. It does. He imagines her drawing a breath. He feels his heart pound like the war drum as he sees her press those jewels together and softly speak, "Kiowa." When he opens his eyes, he feels like the glittering stars have landed on his tongue and tickled them with frost. Then suddenly he feels the sensation leap off his tongue and transform to sun-kissed warmth burning on his lips.

What is happening to me? he wonders, wiping his lips and shaking the vapor image of Anoki out of his mind. He determines to think carefully and to plan his next move for the tribe. His people. But the problem is, no matter how hard he tries, her face returns like the reflection in a lake. For some reason, the longer he looks, the less he wants to distort his memory. He reaches for her as though she's there and finds himself in the land of confusion. When he closes his eyes, he can see his hand gently pressed against her cheek. But when he opens them, his hand is empty.

"How do you catch what cannot be caught?" He thinks on this for a moment. Excitement lifts his brows, widens his eyes, and forces a gasp. "Ah-hoe! I know! I must simply fill my hand with Anoki's face!" he says, grabbing on to this thought. He wraps his fingers around thin air and compresses it into his fist. He presses the idea to his heart, as though he is planting a seed.

"Father, send me Moon Beam to guide me back to your brother. I know you wanted to be my father, but this man is the only father I know. Let me learn what has become of this woman who uses her strange magic on me."

No sooner has he finished making his plea than he sees a bright star with a long glittering tail shoot across the sky in a straight line and explode like a firework over the top of the mountain where the pine forest is thickest.

"Thank you, Father!" Kiowa says, moving toward the sign.

Early that morning Two Moons whispers to Paw, "I hear the morning birds. The lark sings before dawn. You know, Uncle, that stupid little yellow bird that you let live. Maybe it would have been better to make a bracelet out of it after all. The Navajo will swell their numbers and certainly find us."

"If we heard nothing we would have more to fear. Perhaps they have captured your brother and he-who-is-like-a-brother."

"That would be nice. He could Make Trouble for someone else for once."

Paw frowns and looks at him. He slowly nods.

Two Moons continues. "All the more reason to leave the Hopi princess and her father here and return with our tribe. We could use them as bait, then overtake the Navajo and get more horses and scalps."

"That is a good plan," Paw confirms.

They sit motionless, weighing their options to a chorus of morning birds. Their faces are still like stone, as the dark, starry night changes from blackness and brightens ever so delicately. The stars still shine and cling to the night, refusing to surrender their place to the increasing twilight.

"Perhaps Kiowa and Makes Trouble failed. Perhaps they were captured and tortured," Paw says, choking up at the thought of his nephew who has become his son.

"If this is so, we will need the tribe to recover what remains of him. Onendah will need to free my brother's spirit."

"It would seem that all paths lead back to the tribe. Let me enjoy the morning light and music and pray to Naukolahe, that he might deliver my boy to me before we abandon the Hopi."

"I will ready the horses." Two Moons slips away without making a sound.

"Great Father of Heaven and Earth, hear my prayer. My heart is heavy with grief. It sinks to the bottom of the lake like a hard stone. I am like the stone that sinks into the lake of despair. I have worn the pants of my brother all these years in the hope that my legs would become his. They have not as of yet done much more than produce a silver fox. I do not believe they will if I cannot use them to find our son. Please light the morning sky. Reveal my son to me. Let my legs burn the way they did for Moon Beam and I will run to Kiowa. Show me a sign that I may fulfill Onendah's prophecy. This is all that I ask, and if you give me this boy back, I will never let him leave my side again! I will even take his troublesome friend under my wing. This is a mighty offering."

Paw presses his open palm to the earth and sends his message through his hand. He clenches his fist and lifts the cool sand up to his lips. With a kiss, he releases it.

Before the grains slip through his fingers, he feels Two Moons press his hand against his shoulder.

"I have said my prayer. We may go now," Paw whispers, feeling rushed.

A word from the aurhor: Paw's sincerity is gripping. I love this guy! I wonder where his brother's legs will lead him? Read on to find out!


	29. Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

"But I have just returned," Kiowa says, squeezing his uncle's shoulder.

Kiowa's voice springs Paw to his feet. Excitement quivers in his heart.

"My prayer was heard. I'm am so happy!" He hugs his nephew. "Is your would-be brother with you?"

"His body is with me, but his mind is not the same. Whatever seed was planted between his ears has ripened him from a weasel to an owl. I do not even know if he makes trouble anymore."

"What happened?"

"If it were not for his quick words and cunning strategy, the Navajo would have caught us both."

Paw looks down and feels the final grains of sand slip through his fingers. "Thank you," are all the words he can muster for his god.

"Maybe it's time he gets a new name," Paw asserts.

Two Moons rejoins them.

"Maybe…" Kiowa looks away, then back at Paw before moving on to the next point of interest. "I want to bring her back to the tribe."

"They will not accept Anoki," Two Moons firmly argues.

"Surely they will accept her!" Kiowa shouts, catching Anoki's attention.

"Father, what do you think they are discussing?" Anoki asks Kikmongwi.

"Probably whether they should sell us to the Mexicans. Let me rest, Daughter. I am in much pain." He gently pats her hand as her face droops with fright.

Oh, I cannot worry about such matters. What can a little woman do against such men anyway? I am more interested in this man who saved me. She can't help but stare at him. And though she's not sure how his black war paint wiped clean from his bronze skin, she's glad that it has. His muscles have shed any trace of childhood. He is a man with a well-defined build. His abdomen ripples until it comes to a V at his waistline. His handsome face makes her feel like the intense summer heat is burning in her chest. Only when he looks at her does the heat gather in her blushing cheeks and force her to look away.

"I do not believe they will. I believe they will purge her by fire from the tribe if you take her back with you," Two Moons says with a conviction that forces Kiowa to pause and think on his words. "You will be sorry."

"I have always trusted you with all things, older brother. My heart wants to betray you, but my mind knows better. However, for my mind's curiosity, I must know why you believe this to be so." Kiowa won't back down.

"You are the greatest warrior our tribe has had since our father was slain. You alone did what the tribe could not. You challenged Black Bear in open combat and won! The tribe will expect you to marry a Kiowa woman and have Kiowa children so that we may have more great Kiowa warriors. Your job is to replace the warriors we have lost. That is the way it is. I would not be surprised if the tribe offers you every squaw of age. Wait another few years until you look on the faces of many beautiful women before you decide on this one. You will forget this woman's face soon enough." He waves Kiowa off.

Kiowa's face puckers with a sour expression. Would I do that to her?

"What do I do with her?" Kiowa shakes his head. More importantly…what do I do with my vision?

"We leave them food, a bow, and a horse. When the time is right, their men will come out of the cliff dwelling, and they can reunite with them."

Kiowa clenches his jaw and swallows the most painful truth he has heard in a long time. The roughness feels like bark scraping his throat. "What if the Navajo return?"

"They will return, and so will we. But with our tribe this time, and we will leave strong impressions on their minds that to harm the Hopi is to harm the Kiowa. If these scalps and stolen horses aren't enough to scare them, then we will do what we do best—go to war!"

"I see the wisdom of your plan. I just don't like the heavy price I must pay." His voice trails off as he grumbles, "I've already paid a heavy price. Am I to keep paying?"

Anoki scoots closer so she can listen.

"We are warriors, Kiowa. We will always pay the heaviest price for the benefit of our tribe. What has happened here must be a secret from the tribe. You have feelings for Anoki?"

Kiowa signs, Yes.

Anoki gasps when she sees it.

"They must be your own. Share them with no one. For sure not Makes Trouble. Even if he is now an owl, he will still hoot."

"Let us go! Weasel Tail will send warriors for us soon because we have not returned. I pray that they will bigger numbers than the Navajo," Paw says, wondering how many prayers the Sun God will answer in one day.

Kiowa walks over to Anoki, not a proud hero but with sunken shoulders and a frowning face. Her father greets them with signs and soft words.

"It has been decided that we must reunite with our tribe. I would very much like for you both to come with us."

"We would like that also!" Anoki tilts her head, smiles gently, and flutters her lashes.

Her father smiles and says, "Let this man speak. Can you not see he has much to say?"

She shakes her head and tightens her face. Sparrows feed worms to their chicks. Fathers feed shame.

"Tell me everything he says," Kikmongwi demands.

Anoki nods and obediently obliges. She folds her arms before she begins. With a swift motion, she signs that she is ready.

Kiowa sighs and shrugs as well. "Our tribes make us different people, and we must honor our traditions. So I must go."

Anoki translates to her father, then signs in Hopi and says in the Kiowa language, "Thank you for all that you have done for us."

Kiowa holds up two fingers. He extends them out in front of his face and then draws them behind his ear.

"I hope we will meet again."

Anoki looks away bashfully. She holds her two fingers up and makes the same sign. "Me too."

Two Moons, Makes Trouble, and Paw maneuver their glorious horse bounty into a straight line.

Kikmongwi lets a slew of Hopi slip out of his mouth. "This night has been an awful one for my daughter. She hasn't the patience to let you speak, so I will cut to the marrow of what is in my heart. You are brave warriors! I must know your names. Daughter, translate."

Anoki signs in Hopi and translates in Kiowa.

"Kiowa." Kiowa points to himself, then to his rebel band. "Paw, Makes Trouble, Two Moons."

Anoki grabs on to his name like her ears have hands and sews it to her heart.

"You are named after your people?" Kikmongwi asks.

Anoki translates. Kiowa answers with a nod.

"You have a good name. Bring me six horses, one of which must be Night Wind, and you can marry my daughter. Let her take your name, and when I die you will get more than six horses back. They will have children and so will Anoki. You would get a better deal!" Kikmongwi proudly proclaims, lifting his hands over his head.

 **Chat with author:** Have you loved someone your tribe didn't love? I must admit, my tribe/family didn't love the person I loved. Talk about heart break. Like Kiowa, I experienced the tug of the tribe string. Funny thing, no matter how hard the tribe pulls you closer to them, love will pull you tighter. My tribe pulled so tight, they decided to snap the string with me. I wonder if they will do that with Kiowa?


	30. Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

Anoki laughs awkwardly. Like Kiowa, she wants to follow tradition and obey her father. So she only translates, "You have a good name," to Kiowa in his language and then signs everything her father said in Hopi so that she won't get in trouble.

Makes Trouble understands all of her Hopi signs and shouts, "My name is Bluffing Owl. We are Kiowa." He speaks in a harsh tone that makes Anoki wince. "We take what we need and trade for the rest. If you were not a tribe of worthless, peaceful Hopi, you would have great warriors like us and you would not have to give your pretty daughter's flesh to anyone but the warriors in your own tribe."

"Like me?" Kiowa says, still not understanding that Kikmongwi is offering Anoki to be his bride.

"Yes, like you!" Makes Trouble answers sternly and folds his arms in front of him. His bottom lip pokes out in a proud pout.

Paw chuckles. "His name was Makes Trouble last night, and he is doing that now, so I think that will still be his name." He studies Anoki intently.

Kiowa can't take his eyes off of the Hopi princess.

Anoki tilts her head, and then graciously looks up at Kiowa with the most loving brown eyes he's ever seen. "I am very grateful for your sacrifice. The Navajo would have killed us if you had not intervened. I will hold you in high esteem as a great chief." She unties her turquoise bracelet and hands it to him.

"For me?" He looks all around, then back at her. "You pick me to have this treasure?"

Anoki covers her smile with her hand and looks down.

"We will make the best deals when you return to us," Chief Kikmongwi promises.

"Kiowa would have no pretty Hopi girls to stare at and detain us if it weren't for you. Now let us ride!" Two Moons shouts.

Kiowa swats at his brother. "Shut up, you old fool!"

Anoki gathers herself and calmly says, "We are…ah…" She loses her thoughts and starts again. "We are very grateful for you, Kiowa, the great warrior."

Makes Trouble can't help but laugh.

Two Moons pats his scalps and says, "Stay in the forest, Hopi Princess. The Navajo will finish what they have started if they ever catch you."

The Kiowa rebels mount their horses and wave good-bye, taking a heap of trophy horses with them.

Kiowa points to the village. "When the smoke has cleared from the sky, Night Wind will take you home."

"He is a good and intelligent horse. He brought us here without us even knowing where we were going. How will I return him to you?" Anoki inquires, wanting to refuse the offer but knowing that would make her look like a foolish girl. Whereas right now she can see that Kiowa thinks her to be a woman.

Kiowa smiles. "When you are done with him, turn him loose. He will know where to find me."

Kiowa breaks his trance by handing Anoki his horse's reins.

"Thank you," is all Anoki can muster as her fingers brush against his.

He slowly turns away, then sprints from her and leaps onto a pinto mustang. The beast startles, stands up, and cycles its hooves as it bellows in protest to its new master.

"'Twas love at first sight, it was!" the scoutmaster says, resting his bearded chin on his locked fingers. He bats his eyelashes and sighs.

"You're still telling us a love story? YUCK! I think I'm going to puke!" Luther gags.

"I thought you were going to teach us how to be brave like Lone Wolf and Kiowa. Instead you're just trying to make mashed potatoes out of us!" John shouts, folding his arms and wrinkling his face.

"Mashed potato, mashed potato," Kevin sings.

"Why didn't he just fight all them Navajo? Lone Wolf would have!" Zack asks.

"Was Anoki pretty?" Kevin asks, pushing dirt up with the tip of his boot.

"She was beautiful, and Kiowa was very handsome as well. Although it was love at first sight, you have to understand, the Kiowa tribe didn't want their leader marrying no dang Hopi. That was absolutely out of the question! They wanted him to marry Kida, the mighty huntress. Could you imagine being told who you had to marry?"

"Noooooo," the boys say in unison.

The inside is much different from the outside. All around his tepee are strewn bones of beaver, elk, bear, and buffalo. It is as though Kiowa wants us to think he is some wild animal, rather than a beautiful, handsome man, Kida thinks as she looks around the outside of Kiowa's tepee.

The painted symbols on his tepee tell his life's story. A young boy buries his face in his hands and cries for his father. Pa teaches the boy how to hunt. A shadow hurls a golden spear at a bear falling off a horse.

"Hello, Kiowa. I have come with gifts," Kida yells.

"Go away!"

"I have nowhere to go. Everyone has had enough to eat, and you cannot refuse a woman with a gift. That is the law."

"Ugh…" Kiowa grumbles, flipping the flap of his tepee and waving her in.

When Kida enters the tepee, she gasps. "You make darkness when it is light?"

"Darkness? It is not dark enough. If you let the light in, you are going to see much pain." Kiowa sighs. He heaves a thousandth huff to the gloomy lingering cloud of sorrow.

Kida senses it, but of course cannot touch it. But if she could, she would cut it into pieces, sweep it up, and toss it out.

"I have brought you meats, that you may gain back your strength." Kida coyly displays the food, sitting down by a fire in Kiowa's tepee.

"I am not hungry." Somberly, he lifts a brow with love-hurt eyes. He stares at the dull rolling amber flames, closes his eyes, and sees Anoki riding a white horse. Those powerful feelings shift to a sense of betrayal when he opens his eyes and sees Kida in his tepee. Alone. With just him.

"You must be sick, Kiowa. You are very quiet and you keep your thoughts to yourself," Kida purrs, obeying her mother's counsel and speaking in sweet seductive tones. She makes soft gestures instead of obeying her brutal, blunt nature.

Kiowa wants to cry an ocean of lovesick tears. Instead, he observes Kida's slow gestures and accentuated curves. She reminds him of a coiling snake. This woman has long, pretty hair and wild, savage eyes. Her eyes are saying something, but I do not care. Her eyes are nothing like Anoki's. Sweet Anoki, who braids her hair neatly and has gentle eyes. He smiles. Anoki who is perfect in every way, like a white swan. He frowns, looking directly at Kida. Or these angry-faced Kiowa women who are like black crows to me.

Kida feels his eyes on her. Her giddiness can hardly be contained. She pounces, seizing the moment. "I am so happy to be here with you." She beams and offers him a delightful smile.

Kiowa doesn't say anything. He plays with the bracelet Anoki gave him.

By refusing to engage or acknowledge her existence, he says a lot. The lack of attention drives Kida crazy. In complete dissatisfaction, and to Kida's utter dismay, he holds a limp bent arm out, looks away, and waves her off.

Kida takes the insult on the chin. She lifts up a log and thinks, Surely if I cannot sweep away his gloom, I can burn it out with this fire or my flame.

When the flames grow, Kiowa gives the tiniest comfort. "It is very good of you to come here, Kida—"

She cuts him off. "I'm glad to be here! Your tepee is the biggest in the tribe." She drags her fingers on the padded fur floor. "You have many fine furs to rest on. Magic symbols to protect you. Plenty of food. It seems all you need is…" She looks up, expecting some sort of reciprocation.

He offers a fleeting glance. "A woman?"

She bursts to life in animated excitement. "YES!" She drags the s out so long, Kiowa thinks he can see her forked tongue.

Despite his best intentions, Kida has found the grain of hope she sought. In one final burst, Kida goes too far and reveals her true intention. With a quick shift of her hips, she lies flat on her stomach and stretches herself out like a cat, showing all her enticing female curves. When he doesn't respond to her seductive advances, she seizes ground and closes the distance, now on all fours. She leans close enough to kiss him. And more than any woman ever has, she invites his kiss by tilting her head up, closing her eyes, and pushing her lips out. She doesn't know why she's supposed to close her eyes. All she knows is that her sister, who is married, told her to do this. Oh, and don't forget to part your pretty lips! No man can refuse your lips, was the trusted sister's council.

Kiowa shuffles around the fire. "And should I take any woman?"

Kida follows him.

Though Kiowa doesn't offer much affection, Kida clings to every word that slips through his alluring lips. She lowers her guard and answers truthfully. "No. You would betray all women if you did not pick a woman out of love. She may have children, she may cook, clean, sew, make clothes for you, but without love, she will teach her children to hate you."

"So a woman must have love from her man or his children will hate him?"

"She will die without it."

Kida feels the mood shift. She scoots closer to Kiowa and compensates by resuming her seductive game. She sits up and pulls the string to her blouse. She slides her sleeves over her shoulders and loosens her buckskin so that he can practically see her breasts.

"Touch me."

A word from the author: Ever wanted someone so bad you couldn't have them? Were you willing to do anything to get them? Offer your flesh, hoping to have your heart stolen away? Were you rejected? How did it feel? Write a review and let the tribe know.


	31. Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

"No!" Kiowa inches away.

"Kiss me." Kida inches closer.

"I will not!"

"Hold me?"

"I cannot!"

"Oh, you can! And you will. Tell me that you love me."

"Why? Why must I tell you I love you?"

"Will you keep your love all to yourself? Can a man hold his love inside himself?" On all fours, Kida isn't begging. She's prepping for a pounce.

"No. No man can carry love all himself. He must give it to some woman."

"Then GIVE IT TO ME!" She closes her eyes and stalks him with her lips pressed out.

He scoots away. "I feel…" Kiowa hacks a fake cough. "I think you are right. I am sick."

"I am not asking if you are sick, and I do not care. I am begging you to love me. I want you so bad it hurts to breathe." She flips her wild hair and lets the long silky strands spill around her shoulders. She pulls her top down.

Kiowa shuffles around the fire. "I am feverish. Look, my palms are sweating."

"Let me take you in these arms"—she extends her arms—"so that you may put your love inside me." She balls her hand up into a fist and slams it against her chest. "I will take your love and I will mix it into sweet flesh and strong bone. Give me this night and I will give you a legacy."

Kiowa scoots around the fire much faster the second time. Kida is hot on his heels. When he completes the lap, he scrambles to his feet. "If I do that, it will be like a flame to the wheat grass and it will burn you to ashes." Kiowa thrusts his hands out and halts the cat's attack. "Can you not see that?"

Kida sits up. "You know this is our way, and I want to be the first woman of our tribe to have your child in this tepee." She resumes her attack, closing her eyes and parting her lips. "My body burns for you. Burn me with your flame."

"The first?" Kiowa asks in confusion.

She leans back and opens her eyes. "Don't act like you don't know. All the girls in the tribe are eager to steal away your love and make children with it. Some have even said they would trade their bones for the chance to birth your son. I have warned them that I will cut their flesh to the bone if they try. I am the best! You are the best! Today we will make the best of everything our people have to offer this Indian nation."

"I never knew."

"How could you not know?" Kida shouts, leaping to her feet. She pulls her blouse up. "If any other warrior were here right now, we would already be finished. I would have his love. I would tell my mother. And all my sisters and my mother and my grandmother would help me start making baby moccasins. It is amazing to me that the warriors let you come back at all, since none of the women will let them share their love." She points at the entrance to the village. "What do you think all us girls are doing, smiling and waving and welcoming you back by singing your name and your praises? We are like robins sitting on eggs, and nothing will ever hatch with you. Why is this? I demand to know!"

Kida isn't sure what she's supposed to do. If there were a manual written on how to catch a man, she could write a second volume on how not to.

Kiowa's sorrowful cloud returns more potent and powerful than before. It crackles with hints of hate. "Leave here, Kida. I want to spend the winter alone."

She sits up. His words sock her in the mouth. "Have I said something to offend you?"

"Everyone has said words to offend me."

"What do we say?"

"Without using your lips, you all say words that offend my very soul!"

"I don't understand you, Kiowa. You act sick, but you are in good health. You look like death with dark circles under your eyes, and yet you have no fever. But you lie around all day and night. You have no visible ailments. And you keep the entire tribe at a distance. Then, when any of us women visit you to ease your burden, you insult us and treat us with disrespect."

He buries his face and grumbles, "Please go."

"If you will only have the company of children and warriors, when spring comes, you will have neither. The warriors are going to fight, hunt, and die. That is what they do! You could die! By your own words, no man can hold his love up inside himself. Women bear children. That is what we do. Those children will grow up and fill the empty places that the warriors and hunters leave behind. Where will you be when all of this happens? Lying about in your tepee? Groaning under your buffalo blanket? Whose advice are you taking with all this time you spend by yourself? Your own? Here's some counsel from a plain and simple Indian woman: BE A MAN! GIVE ME YOUR LOVE OR GIVE ME YOUR PAIN! Either way, you must fulfill your obligation to the tribe!"

"I will be with them. I am always with them. It is my curse."

She gasps. "All of them?" For the first time in her life, Kida trembles at the thought of all the other girls being with Kiowa. "It is your blessing!" She bristles like a porcupine and does exactly what her mother warns against. "None of us are good enough for you, is that it?" she challenges him.

Insulted and humiliated, Kida leaps to her feet. She screams so loud, her mother, waiting outside the tepee, claps her hands to her face and mistakes the noise for pleasure. So do all the other girls. They scatter to their tepees, crying as they run.

"Keep the meat! I hope you choke on it!" Kida stomps out of his tepee, leaving the meat behind.

When he's certain she is gone and he won't have to look at her lustful eyes, he picks up the plate and tosses it in the fire.

"Anoki, why must you be with me when I am without you? I see your face every time I close my eyes. I smell you with every breath. Why? Why can I no longer eat?" He presses his hand to his cheek. "What spell does your spirit cast on me that I can still feel your hair tickle my face and push me near death? Why do you hurt me so?"

He looks at the painted white figure on his tepee wall. He used porcupine quills to paint a deer's head on his demigod. This image represents the good spirit and all the good he sees. It is full of details and colors. Yellow sun rays blast kindness out of its outstretched arms. It is obvious that this good spirit is the source of everything wonderful.

"I pray to you and you do not answer me. Why? Maybe I should ask him." He points to the other side of the tepee. A black shadow figure and scary face have been sketched on his wall with charcoal. This evil spirit is colorless. Even its hollow eyes are meant to terrify anyone who looks upon it.

"When I pray to you, Evil Spirit, you tell me only to do terrible things. You are full of dirty tricks and evil ways. What do you say?"

He listens for a moment and then smiles. "That is what I thought you would say. Kill her father. Take his scalp. Kill her brother. Take his scalp. It is always the same with you. I know what you want. You want as many souls as I can bring you so you are not always lonely. You are greedy. You would call your sister, the woman in the water, to take Anoki down where it is dark and cold. If I did those things you ask, Anoki's tears would make you happy and I will not have any of that. I care only about my happiness, so I will listen to you, Good Spirit. When you are ready to speak, I will listen.

"Take me back to my vision, Fire Boy. Show me what Water Boy wants." He liked how the vision made him feel. Kiowa lies back on his side and romanticizes about Anoki. He stares at the fire. Its mesmerizing flames dull. His eyes close and he finds himself riding Night Wind on these flaming hills. Before he knows it, he is completely entranced. He yawns and dozes off to sleep.


	32. Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

In Kiowa's dream, he dismounts Night Wind. When his moccasins touch the ground, it is not fire at all, but solid earth. He tries to move his legs, but they won't budge. Unsure of why or how, he finds himself firmly planted.

All around him towering trees sprout like tiny stems that continue to grow up into the sky. His horse neighs and runs off, leaving the warrior all on his own.

"Night Wind, come back! Do not leave me here!"

Leaves of every kind sprout out of extending branches. It frightens him that they grow so quickly.

What if one sprouts up through my feet and skewers me like a fish? He wants to run, but his feet refuse to obey him.

"Well, this is some strange end to a great warrior. Good-bye, painful world." Storming clouds billow across the blue heavens. Their ash color blackens the sky. His skin grows cold as rain pelts against his body. He struggles back and forth. Whether he wants to or not, Kiowa must stand. Try as he might, the only appendages that work are his hands and only in the slowest motion, despite his best effort.

Off in the distance, he sees lightning crackle. Rising waters swell up to his knees and cause him to shiver. Short bursts of lightning explode, and the earth shakes. With each clap of thunder, long, wiry electric strands cut loose.

"Maybe this beautiful red lightning will touch me and bring my sudden death with an exciting kiss."

Rather than succumbing to fear, he chooses to accept his fate. He rests where he has always rested, on courage. He bends down, dips his fingers in the mud, and presses them to his cheeks. Swiping down, he draws three distinct lines. One for his father. One for Paw. One for him. When he looks at his fingers, he sees no mud at all but leaves. Hmm…no one will fear me with leaves on my face, he thinks, trying to wipe them off. The more he fights, the more the leaves work like a virus and spread all over his face and chest.

Off in the distance a powerful burst of light materializes and hovers in the sky. Whatever it is, it moves with the intelligence of life and is the source of all the lightning. He observes as its electric-white silhouette hovers toward him. It begins to take form. He can see that it is a woman, and he strains to make out the woman's face, feeling overwhelmed with happiness when the apparition reveals herself to be none other than Anoki.

He gasps. "Have you come for me, sweet Anoki?"

Her clothes are no longer made of buckskin and beads. Her long, flowing gown is as bright as the stars. She cups her hands and retracts the lightning. With some strange magic that Kiowa cannot begin to understand, Anoki uses her power to shape the lightning into a ball. With a gentle kiss, she blows it to him. As it approaches, branches of blue, white, yellow, and red lightning crackle off and touch the trees. They start a fire that he cannot run from or put out. He is defenseless.

The supernatural ball of energy hovers in front of his face and does not harm him. It twinkles and gyrates like a star. He licks his dry lips and can't resist the urge to touch it. He reaches up. His hands and arms are covered in withered leaves.

"What is this strange magic?"

When he extends his finger, a crackle of lightning connects. The greatest love he has ever felt overwhelms him. It feels like a tidal wave washing over his body and cleansing his soul. Warmth as powerful as the sun blankets him and makes him feel like he has finally found his place in the world.

"I am home."

A heavy wind blows hard against his face. He feels his leafy skin flutter with the breeze. When he finally summons the courage to touch the blinding light, it blasts his body apart into thousands of leaves, scattering him to the wind.

He sits up panting. He's breathing so hard he can't breathe. His chest heaves. His heart beats like a drum in his ears. He looks at his hands. Turning them back and forth he can see that they are now flesh. He smiles, clasps his hands together, and shouts, "With all my heart, I love you, Anoki!" He immediately regrets this and covers his lips with clasped hands. He carefully tiptoes over to the flap of his tepee and flings it open. It is late into the night. No one could hear him scream. Not even the night watchman pays attention to him.

"I know what that energy is," he says to himself, leaning back in his tepee. "It is the most potent happiness I have ever felt, and Anoki is the source of it. She is my home!" Kiowa closes his eyes and savors the images from his vision. But what do the leaves mean? Was Kida right? Will Anoki blast me apart if I do not truly love her? Or will I be blasted apart if she does not truly love me? he frets.

"If only my loving thoughts could travel faster than sunlight to sweet Anoki. Then she would know how I feel. I would ride to her"—he dips his finger in a red line and draws it up his arm—"and steal her away." He grins as he uses black paint to draw a horse on his arm.

Would she even wait for me? He presses his hand in the yellow paint and smears a circle on his chest. If I do have any real magic, I cast a spell on her that she will wait for me. He grins wildly at this thought. That would be true power. As my magic rests here in my pouch, it is useless to me. It only protects me in battle. He sighs, then leans back. His body is a tapestry of emotion, manifested in color and strange images.

Several months pass, and sure as the frost melts, snowstorms turn to spring rains. Kida's words come true. The men go off to hunt. War parties raid. Most warriors return; Weasel Tail doesn't. Kiowa comes back with a harder and harder look in his eyes as he's thrust into the Indian warrior ways. War wipes his eyes clean of the pure innocence his youth preserved. The gentleness of his jaw chisels to a sharpness and makes his face insanely handsome. Each hunt and feast expand his muscles. First in his chest. Then his bulging biceps. Finally, his round shoulders look exactly like his father's. Kiowa's physique is a compliment to the man who sired him.

As time goes on, widows' death rattles rally the tribe. People mourn. People dance. People sing. The tribe is always on the move. Always going forward, never backward. Children of age take the warriors' places and help with the war parties and the hunt.

True to his word, Kiowa is there for all of it. He fights. He hunts. He kills. He carries a burden he never asked for. His only solace is the intense love he feels for Anoki growing stronger. The swirling emotions twist inside him like hurricane winds in his vision. And like hurricanes, his emotions grow stronger with each passing day. Each day of winter is more bitter without her. Snowflakes fall and freeze icicles on the trees. When he looks at the daggers, he can feel their icy pain. Not even spring eases his suffering. While all the animals are pairing off, finding love, and making children, he is alone. To the eyes of his tribe, he acts as one who is mortally wounded, since he always rests in his tepee. But those same watching, prying eyes spy no wound.

In the early part of summer, Paw cautiously enters Kiowa's tent.

"You are breaking many hearts," Paw informs Kiowa, cutting to the quick.

"They are breaking mine!"

"They want children. They want love." He looks down, then smirks. "I want children. Maybe we could go find women together and make an army of children."

Kiowa half smiles at his uncle's joke.

"I'm serious. Imagine a tiny wave of little warrior rabbits charging the enemy. They wouldn't attack because children are too cute. They are guaranteed to win."

"I have fulfilled my obligations to the tribe. You cannot ask me to marry when I do not love. Even Kida knows it is wrong."

"I know. This is why I am here. My raids have been successful. We have plenty of buffalo hides, jewelry, horses, and other things to trade with the Hopi. It is a good time for a trip. We usually trade about this time anyways, so I thought you might want to come…"

Before Paw can finish his words, Kiowa leaps to his feet and comes to life. All at once he is healed. He grabs his bow, his arrows, and a bundle of furs he uses for a bed. "Why are you sitting here, Uncle? Let us go get Anoki!"

Paw laughs. "And I thought you would need to be persuaded."

A word: Ever have a vision? I have and it changed my life. Kiowa's changed his life. Now he has the faith and excitement to go do something about it. I had the faith to write this story for you even though you and I have never met. It my joy. What joy has your faith, your vision, your hope brought you?


	33. Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

When Kiowa comes out of his tepee, gushing squaw take notice of his improved health.

"What's that painted on your arm and chest?" Red Robin asks, batting her eyes.

Kiowa ignores her. He moves past her like she isn't even there.

"Kida said a Cheyenne medicine man used bad magic on him for killing their chief," a beautiful young squaw named Morning Dove tells the disappointed Red Robin. Morning Dove earned her name for her sweet voice and big brown eyes. She fiercely flutters her eyes at Kiowa as she pretends to chip away at a buffalo hide. Oh, if only you were a cat and I really was a dove. I would let you catch me and my heart. You could make me your spring love, my great chief. Why not me? I have had seventeen summers. I can bear you a mighty son in a cute little body.

"I believe it. If he met with Onendah and feels better, you know it is his special magic that healed Kiowa," Red Robin says, standing and watching Kiowa's every move. She places her hand on her cheek and sighs. When will he notice me? I have had fewer summers than Morning Dove, but I am far prettier.

"Onendah healed me once. He pulled a turtle out of my throat. Some enemy cast a spell on my father. When my father kissed me good night, the spell leapt from his lips on to my cheek and crawled in my mouth and down my throat. I couldn't even talk," Morning Dove says, opening her mouth and pointing to the back of her throat.

Red Robin looks in the back of the cavern, hoping to see some tracks. "How did he get the turtle out of your throat?"

"He said some prayer like, 'You can't live in here. This is not a cave. It is a little girl's mouth.' I choked and coughed until an ugly black turtle"—she holds up her hands about three inches in length—"came out of my mouth."

Red Robin gags at the thought.

A young boy runs up to Kiowa and proudly says, "My brothers and sister, even my mother and father, have all prayed for you to be healed. Onendah did as he said. He healed you, huh? I'm glad I gave him my pet beaver!"

Kiowa looks at the boy in bewilderment and wonders what on earth Onendah would do with a pet beaver.

"Thank you, Twists My Face. I think you have earned a new name."

"What is it?" the boy eagerly asks in hopes of ridding himself of the name his mother gave him on his birth.

"Giver."

"Gives what?"

"Not Gives What? Just Giver," Kiowa answers, patting the boy on the head.

"I like it. Giver!" The boy runs off in search of something to find, so that he can give.

As Paw and Kiowa leave the village, a growing number of young, attractive, single girls cluster. They each hand Kiowa a lily and say sweet things to him like, "Trade well, and when you return, my heart is yours to do with as you please."

So many girls say the same thing that Kida decides to say something entirely different. "Find what you are looking for or do not come back here." She kisses him on the cheek and bids him farewell, but she wishes she were kissing him on the lips.

Kiowa waves farewell to his mother.

He and Paw lead a train of horses loaded with furs and buffalo hides.

Always on the move, the Kiowa tribe is now several days' journey from the Hopi village. When they finally reach the village, it is as though the Navajo raid never happened. The pink clay buildings have been restored. Plains Indians from several different tribes wander about. Traders from all over the Indian nation barter with the Hopi, seeking the best deals for beads, corn, pottery, and sugar.

"If Anoki is still here, you go find her and see what has become of her. I'll do the trading," Paw tells Kiowa.

Kiowa doesn't have to be told twice. He rides up to the tallest pueblo and locates Anoki's father.

Welcome back, Kiowa! We have many wonderful things to trade, Kikmongwi signs in the Kiowa language.

You have learned our signs well, Kiowa signs back. I have brought you ten fine horses. Some were the Navajos'. I hope that doesn't upset you.

Ha! Ha! No, that is more than I ask for. I will take all of them to compensate for the weaker horses. Kikmongwi waves his hand and flashes his fingers fluently.

They are all strong horses, Kiowa signs back.

That can't be true. They carried Navajo. Kikmongwi spits at the floor to curse his enemy.

Where did you learn our signs? Kiowa asks.

My daughter has taught me much over this bitter cold winter. She was very weepy and would hardly move about since last you met.

Is she sick?

Sick with no sign of sickness.

That is good, Kiowa signs. And where is Anoki? Kiowa mistakenly points to his heart instead of signing her name.

Kikmongwi doesn't understand.

"I, uh…" Kiowa says, losing his wits. He looks around, like he can find them skipping about on the dirt floor. "Er…uhm…" he stutters. Why can I not sign the words I think?

Kikmongwi smiles and rubs his hands together. He signs that his daughter is at the river.

Please sit down. I would like to show you this fine jewelry that will make a good trade for Night Wind. The Hopi chief turns and motions with an open hand to an empty seat, but when he turns back, he finds himself alone in his adobe hut.

"He is much worse than I suspected. Go get her heart. She will make you happy days and even happier nights," the Hopi chief laughs to himself.

Kiowa rides up the stream, sending his horse, Night Wind, into a full sprint. Water splashes around him as the black stallion picks up tremendous speed.

A tiny doubt twangs in the back of his mind, like a cricket plucking its fiddle.

How do I even know if she feels the same for me as I feel for her? The doubt grows.

His long raven hair whips wildly against his bare muscular back. Looking this way and that, he searches frantically for her.

How she feels does not matter! All that matters is that I confess my love. And then…He thinks for a long time, contemplating what he should do next. Then it won't matter, because she will confess she loves me. She must. Why wouldn't she? His confident smile beams, straightening out to something between a flat smirk and a crooked frown.

Author's note: Here it comes... get ready for it! The love stooooooorrrrryyyyy!


	34. Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

Up the river, Anoki washes her feet and hums a beautiful song. She carefully braids two long braids and wraps one into a bun, then looks at her brother, Walpi.

"I never hear you speak of Mali. Do you miss our sister?" Walpi asks, resting his feet in the stream.

"Of course. I think about her every day. Don't you miss her?" Anoki inquires, looking off in the distance with a somber expression. She wraps the other braid into a bun.

"No, not really."

Anoki gasps. "Why do you not miss our sister?"

Walpi shrugs. "No doubt the black robes have married her to some Mexican man by now. She has always been happy. I am sure she will be happy again."

I hadn't thought of that, Anoki thinks. "That is what they do." She gives an affirmative nod. Probably because the black robes tell them that a woman who isn't productive will have worms grow out of her fingers. I hate the Mexicans who pay the Navajo with whiskey to steal away our fine Hopi women.

"Soon she will have babies, and that always makes women happiest," Walpi nonchalantly replies, as he places his flute in his mouth and blows.

Anoki's eyes nearly spring out of her head. "Do you not understand a woman's mind or heart?"

Walpi looks at her with curiosity. "No. I am not a woman. How could I know a woman's thoughts?"

"Brother, I fear you have wasted too much time fishing and playing your flute. I think you are making yourself stupid. Come, listen to me." She pats the ground beside her. "A woman's heart is like a puzzle piece. When we are young like I am, women desperately want to find their place."

"How do you find your place?"

"That is not so easy. But we know it when our hearts are led to that place, because we follow the trail of love. But this is not all…"

"Love has no footprints to track. How would you ever find a woman's heart if it leaves no trail?"

"By love's bright wings."

"Love has wings? I don't think so. I think women just need to be told what to do and how to do it. They will be fine with a man who gives them babies, food, and leads them through life, with or without love."

"My worst fears are realized brother. You are stupid." She swats him on the head. "Without love, our sister will wish she were dead, even if her heart goes on beating and her lungs keep breathing."

"Do not tell me that. I cannot bear to think of her in pain."

"It is time for you to stop being foolish and start thinking manly thoughts. Now listen to your sister and see if you do not hear wisdom."

"Okay, I am listening."

"If the Navajo sold Mali to the Mexicans, would they not sell our mother?"

"Yes, I suppose they would."

"Do you miss our mother?"

Her words make Walpi's eyes tear up. "I miss Mother terribly. I miss bringing her presents. I miss her soothing voice. I miss her stories. No one should be without their mother. It is a hard life."

"Ah, so you know love because you love your mother. That is good. If Mother is sold, then she has a new family. Will those children make her happy?"

"I hadn't thought of that. What if she loves those children more than us? What can we do? We are a peaceful tribe." Walpi wipes tears from his eyes.

"See, love does have a trail. It is here on your cheeks. This is the concern I was looking for. Now think of how much sorrow Father must have. He loved Mother more than any man has ever loved a woman."

"How can you know?"

"You don't hear him crying all night? Where do you think the wildflowers beneath his window get their water? We live in a desert."

Walpi thinks on it for a moment, and then cries harder. "Don't tell me any more. I cannot hear your heavy words."

"But you must. Now listen. The other thing I was going to tell you about a woman is that she must not only know where her place is in the puzzle of life, but her mind will torture her until she knows what her part is in the puzzle. Here is the part we are going to play in the love for our mother. I have gathered many beads and precious yellow stones. The white men like the shiny soft gold very much. For this reason, all Indians are willing to trade with them. I will split what little we have, and I will offer every tribe we trade with a portion of the beads and yellow stone. When one of them brings us Mother, we will give them the rest. I will use the Mexicans' dirty dealings against them and offer something more valuable than whiskey. This is how we will bring our mother back to our family. This is also how we will get our sister home."

"I am even more sad for you now, sister. How do you know they won't kill you and take what little you have?"

"Because I have learned from the gophers. I have dug holes and buried it here and there in places only I know. I will not tell anyone, not even you."

She wraps her arms around Walpi and hugs him.

"Won't Mali and Mother have children? Will they bring them here, too?"

"Yes. Everything that was ours will be ours again."

"Do you promise?" Walpi asks, sitting up and wiping his nose with his arm.

"Yes, I promise. Now let us talk about something else. I do not like to see you so sad."

"What do you want to talk about?" Walpi asks as he lifts his flute and plays a song that his mother used to ask him to play.

"Oh, I like this song," Anoki compliments him. She looks around and shakes her head like she's thinking terribly hard. "Tell me, Brother. When does a man know he loves a woman?"

"How should I know? I have never been in love."

"Never?"

"No, never!" He gives her a long, firm glance that lets her know he's not playing her game.

"Too bad," she says with a shrug. "For a woman it makes our blood boil like hot springs, and every part of our bodies comes to life with a tingling sensitivity that makes us feel like we are…"

She's succeeds in gaining his attention.

"Are…?"

"You won't know until it happens to you because you would not humor your sweet sister." She sticks her tongue out at him.

He gasps, then sticks his tongue out at her. "I knew you were teasing me. You are like the bobcat. Using crafty cunning wildcat calls that taunt and trick."

Anoki shrugs as she winds her other braid up and fastens it in place.

"It is like you are floating away." She grins and presses her hands to her mouth. "No, it is like you are flying away, even though your feet are planted on the ground."

Walpi looks at her feet. "Are you floating or flying?"

She looks down and gives it some thought. "I do not know for certain. I feel a rush of wind. I look up and I see the clouds. Then I spin around because…" She spins around, then stops.

"Because what?"

"Because…I don't know what else to do. I am just so happy! I am always moving, but then I am standing still."

Along the riverbank, Kiowa hides in the weeds. He hears what she says but cannot understand her Hopi words.

"She is the most beautiful, graceful creature I have ever seen," he whispers to Night Wind.

Where is your courage, you fool? he asks himself. You have planned this a certain way. Why do you not rush to her and lift her up on your horse and steal her away?

He nervously chews on his fingernails.

"Her hair is still woven in buns. She is shielded by the magic of purity." He pats his horse. "Do not laugh at me, friend. Of course I had words aplenty. We were alone in our tepee, then. In the sanctity of our home, I could say anything. Now she is there and I am here and I feel much safer behind this wall thorny weeds."

Anoki spins around and flaps her arms like a bird.

Oh, how I wish she knew how much I love her. What am I to do? Should I hide like a bug or charge like a mountain lion? It would be wise to first see why she is so excited.

"Father will wonder where we are if we do not return home soon," Walpi informs his sister.

"Just a few more moments," she says wistfully, looking off in the distant horizon.

"Every day you come here and bathe, more often than any woman in the town. You stop and stare off to the skies. Tell me, Sister, are you going to float or fly away?"

She shrugs, smiles, and shouts, "If I could, I would fly back into his arms." She wraps her arms around herself and pretends it is Kiowa holding her. Around and around she spins, never taking her eyes off the horizon. "Oh, Kiowa, where are you, my brave, strong chief?"

A safe distance from her, Kiowa beams with sheer delight when he hears his name. Does she speak of me or of my tribe? he wonders.

Walpi plays his flute faster. This will make her fly.

With a heart full of hope, Anoki begins singing a song she's practiced all winter.

My fingers twist around dandelion stocks. I pull them till they pop.

Then press their root to my ear. They say nothing. I frown.

The Navajo burned our crops and starved our bellies.

I smile, for my eyes don't eat unless they feast on you.

My lips thirst for yours. My ears listen for…Kiowa!

BRAVE WAR CHIEF. You charged through the walls of my heart.

If only I could go back to the night that you caught me. Catch me again!

You saved me that day. And the next day, and every day since, I have prayed for word.

Your voice is all I want, yet WINTER snowflakes fell and no words at all.

Does the howling wind blow words from you to me? Can the wind be so empty?

Or is that Night Wind rushing past me?

My love is powerful. It will float Night Wind to the sky and send word back.

Leap into heaven without regard for the moon. She is jealous!

Dance on her face. Her light makes flames upon the water.

Sprint across the sparkling stars. My eyes fix on the sky.

You have gone too far! Turn around. I am the star!

The sun's eternal flame flickers. I want to see it dance in the palm of my hand. I reach to catch it…

Anoki doesn't finish. She reaches up for the sun and keeps her hand stretched out.

"And?" Walpi asks, breaking her spell.

"And what?" Anoki answers.

"And then what happens when you catch this flame?"

"I cannot know that. It hasn't happened yet. I can't finish my song until he finishes it for me."

"But you could just make up an ending. Then we would have another song to play at the next dance."

"Okay, then. I place my wishes on sparrows' wings." Anoki joins them by flapping her arms and pretending to fly away.

"Oh, forget it. You are wasting time with the birds. Who could know if he loves you but Kiowa himself?" Walpi interrupts.

"You cannot know what it is to be a woman and wish to be wanted."

"Of course not. I am a man. Why would I want to know such silly things?"

Anoki grunts, "What better moment can a woman have than to know her man wants her? Wants to grab her up and…?"

She captures Walpi's attention. "Yes, and…?"

"And I don't know…" She presses her hands to her lips. Her eyes burn with passion. Her heart is ablaze. In the first spark of love, anything is possible. Fan the spark and it grows into a flame. Maybe he can even steal my heart away. She searches the sky with hope filled eyes. Her bright smile begins to fade. Oh, I am tricking myself. He probably wants nothing to do with me. She presses the back of her hand to her forehead. Her smile turns to a frown. The Kiowa women are probably more beautiful than I am, anyway. He is from a warrior tribe. No doubt pretty women surround him. Their lips are thin. Mine are plump. Their eyes are wide like stones. Mine are oval like almonds. Their hair is wild and fine like Night Wind's. Mine is neatly braided like bread rolls stuck on both sides of my head like a ram. She presses her hands to her buns and then thrusts her arms out. They make a thud when they plop against her sides.

"What?" Walpi asks.

"I'm just a plain old Hopi Indian girl." Her thoughts flicker back to the other women. She can't help but think of him with other "fine Indian women." Her frown deepens and her happiness melts to welling tears.

Here I am dreaming of that night and probably he has forgotten all about me. She shrugs and looks down to the ground, wiping tears away. Perhaps I should just forget all about him. She bites her bottom lip and feels it quiver between her teeth. If that is even possible. She looks back up to the sky.

"What are these words? You cannot even seem to find them."

She shrugs and faces her brother. "Hope has slipped from my mind. Now I am filled with doubt."

"These are dangerous times, Sister. Hope is scarce. I would choose doubt. There is an abundance of doubt. Anyone in our tribe can find doubt. It hangs on all of our faces." He frowns and pulls at the corners of his mouth with his fingers to exaggerate the doubtful expression.

"Is it so wrong for the Hopi to have hope?"

"Yes, I think so." Walpi goes back to playing his flute.

"Then we disagree. I hope Kiowa…"

Kiowa thinks, For as many times as she's said my name, surely she's talking about me. But what is she saying? He feels like he did in his vision. He wants to move his feet, but they won't go. Will I blow apart like leaves? He holds his hands up in front of his face. Where is Moon Beam when I need him?

Night Wind whinnies as though he is growing as bored of this as Walpi is.

Anoki gasps.

Kiowa curses his horse. "You brave fool! I will make a deal with the heavens here and now. If they send Moon Beam back, I will trade you for him in an instant." With his chest puffed out, he lets Night Wind lead the way, while he thinks of what he has rehearsed to say.

A great rustling and snapping of branches startles Anoki and Walpi.

As Night Wind picks up his pace, Kiowa orients him toward Anoki.

Walpi panics and shouts, "RUN, SISTER!" He drops his flute and readies his hunting spear. "This time I will protect you, Anoki! I will lose no more women to the Mexicans!"

A question: Well ladies, did I hit my mark?


	35. Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34

"We have no reason to fear him." Anoki puts her hand on Walpi's spear and lowers it with a gentle press.

Kiowa's long raven hair splashes around his broad shoulders and dances off his muscular back. Each bow and rock of Night Wind impresses Anoki with the black mustang's rippling chest muscles and Kiowa's flexed arms and legs. Though it has been only one winter, Kiowa's stature has dramatically increased since last she saw him. His broad beaming smile displays winter's growth on a sharp manly jaw.

His charging stallion excites her. Anoki can feel the earth shake under her feet. She gasps and swallow a river of excitement. "See there, Brother. It is not so bad for a Hopi girl to have hope."

"This is what you want? A wild savage man running up to you?"

Anoki's eyes soften. She smiles and nods.

The powerful mustang comes to an abrupt halt. A dust cloud catches up and engulfs the rider. Night Wind rears up on his bulging hindquarters and crow hops his front legs.

Neither of them says a word. Kiowa's gaze is so intense, its source cannot be mistaken. When their eyes lock, Anoki melts. She blushes and looks down bashfully. Electric emotions charge the space between them and make Walpi feel uncomfortable.

"My protector returns." Anoki looks up with gushing eyes. Her shyness demands she look away. Instead, her courage forces her to hold his gaze. She feels her rosebud lips tremble as she nervously smiles. Sage, dust, and horse offend her sense of smell. But her face doesn't show it.

Kiowa's confidence overwhelms her when he doesn't say anything. Instead, he leans down and reaches for her.

She spots a red paint line from his wrist to the center of his chest, where it meets a circle of bright yellow paint over his heart. A series of characters are smeared from his sweat. Is this war paint? she wonders before hesitantly taking his hand. If it is, then am I at war? Not wanting to be rude, she rests her palpitating hand in his. Her pulse races. Surely he must know I'm nervous.

It doesn't seem to matter what she is. With one swift motion, she feels his effortless strength lift her up onto his horse and draw her to him like metal to a magnet.

Swinging her leg over Night Wind's bare back, she wraps her slender arms around his waist and presses her chest against his back. Her heart beats so fast that she begs it to slow down. Please do not leap out of my chest and run away! Why are you so nervous, Anoki? This is what I wanted! This is the man who makes me feel like I am floating. Or flying?

"Okay, then. I guess I'm going home?" Walpi says sulkily, waving good-bye as Kiowa steals his sister away. "I could have killed him if I wanted to. Luck was with you this time, big strong Kiowa warrior man." He twirls his spear and drops it.

Kiowa and Anoki sprint across the desert floor. She releases her grip and unties her hair. Her braids quickly unfold and catch in the wind. Kiowa's long strands whip around and tickle her face. She inhales. So that is what sunlight smells like. She leans back and extends her arms, then looks up at the vast blue sky. Warm summer wind passes through her fingers and whooshes against her face as they blaze across the desert plains. The hot sun scorches her already blushing cheeks. Night Wind's full sprint rhythmically shakes her entire body. She beams with pure joy, then squints her eyes shut and thinks, I was wrong, Walpi. To love is to fly.

Kiowa kicks at Night Wind's side, making the mustang do what he does best, run as fast as the wind.

Where do we race to? Anoki thinks. Oh, I can not know this. I care only that it is a secret place! This makes her joy beam even brighter. She sneaks a few kicks of her own.

After half a day's journey through flat desert lands, the distant horizon grows steep with jagged red cliffs. The cliffs shoot up through the ground and have strong streaks of brown. As they get closer to the towering walls, they find themselves enclosed in a narrowing canyon. About halfway in, the canyon widens. Leafy green foliage splashes up against the red clay cliffs. Eventually, they arrive at a murky blue-green stream. Night Wind slows to a steady trot. His heavy breathing echoes.

Upstream, thick bushy palm trees hide an oasis where a spring rests at the foot of the tallest mountain.

"Is this your secret place?" Anoki asks Kiowa.

"My uncle told me to bring you here. He said you would like it."

"He is wise. Do you know what this place is called?"

Kiowa shakes his head.

"Havasupai. These are sacred falls."

"Ah-hoe, so this is a sacred—not a secret—place?"

"Yes. It is a sacred place."

When he dismounts, he places his hands on her hips.

She rests her hands on his shoulders. So this is what it a bird feels like to land, she thinks as she gently slides down.

He can't help but stare at the yellow square bead patterns on her deerskin dress.

"I like these blue beads, but what are these yellow beads in a square?"

She looks down at the pattern and drags her fingers across them. "It is the sun. I have four suns in my blue sky. My father, whom you saved. My mother, whom I hope to save. My sister, whom I also hope to save. My brother, Walpi, who cannot be saved."

She looks up, tilts her head to the side, and sighs.

Kiowa lightly chuckles at her words.

Without much effort at all, she forms the most inviting expression. Her lips beg him to kiss her, right here and now, but for some reason he resists.

Am I mistaken? Anoki panics and feels sweat bead on her forehead.

Kiowa slides his hand into hers and dismisses her doubts.

She releases a breath she didn't even know she was holding. I am not. See there, he holds my hand and I am thrilled that I can feel it.

Kiowa leads her to a wide flowing turquoise stream. He can hear the falls rushing. I wonder how far it is to the falls. Maybe I should kiss her now…

Anoki looks away and points. "We are not that far away. Follow me! Follow me!" She surprises him by tugging his hand. They slip their moccasins off and leave them at the bank. When his feet hit the cool water, Kiowa is startled. I'm confused by this conflicting temperature. The desert is an unbearable heat, whereas the river is freezing cold.

"This is where Tawa, the creator, formed the first world out of Tokpella. Tawa formed the first humans out of clay and used his magic wind to blow breath into our nostrils. If you look just below your nose, you will still see the trail. Tawa took sun drops from the sky, turned them into corn seeds, and placed them in their hands. This is where the first Indians grew the first golden ears of corn. Most Indians have forgotten this place and their growing ways. The Hopi will always remember. That is why we are still growers and still the first Indians."

"Why do your people build cliff dwellings?"

"That is because Tawa does not like us to hurt one another. Would you like your children hurting each other? No, I don't think so. Rather than fight wars, we hide in our cliff homes."

"How long do you have to hide?"

"Until the Navajo get hungry and find someone else to raid."

"Why not just kill the Navajo, take their scalps, and teach them a lesson?"

Anoki gasps, and her face turns a pale shade. "Ah ha…we could not do that. We would not even know how to."

Sunlight cascades and exposes wild corn that grows all along the lush stream's banks. Water skippers hop on the pond's surface and glide away. Cattails stand tall out of the blue topaz water. Seeds try their hardest to hold intact to their mother stalk. No matter how hard Mother tries, her children slip off the stalk and float away. Water grass below the surface waves at Kiowa and Anoki, inviting them in.

"This is why it is our sacred place. We come back here once a year and show thanks by sacrificing the seeds from our first crop. Our sacrifices bring us back to Maawa, back to center."

"Why would you want to be center?"

"We are all looking for center Kiowa. It is home. It is happiness. You know, it is center."

"Center is home?" Kiowa repeats.

Kiowa isn't prepared for what he finds when he gets to the falls. The stream leads to a lavish wide aquamarine pond. The turquoise pond at the center looks more like the beads in Anoki's dress than actual water.

"It is a pretty fine jewel!" Kiowa sighs.

Anoki smiles. "I am happy to be the first to bring you here."

A tall white flowing waterfall spills and roars over towering red clay cliffs. Patches of green trees line the banks. Puffy white clouds begin to sail overhead. One looks like it has lost its place in the sky where the falls meet the pond.

Kiowa stands in awe. "It is as though clouds have turned into strands of hair and blow forever. I believe you. The gods must have made this place. No doubt the first Indian man and woman were made here, too. But I believe it was Naukolahe who made it."

"Don't look at me. Spin around!" she orders him.

He obeys frantically.

She slips out of her deerskin dress. She gasps and squeals as she steps on tiny pebbles. Her svelte nude figure eases into the turquoise pool.

 **Author's thoughts:** Aint love grand? The barriers between men and women's thoughts are antaomically similar. But the face projects the thoughts of the mind. Oh how much we say to each other without words. I haven't even begun to capture it. Tell me what you think, I really want to know your thoughts.


	36. Chapter 35

CHAPTER 35

Anoki releases her joy through giggles, a sound that is like a wind chime ringing in his ears. The high-pitched female tone entices his flesh and makes his heart beat like a drum. Without realizing it, her voice tempts him to turn and see more. "Are you testing my patience?"

"Maybe!"

Water wets her hair. She swims away from him and releases more joy.

No man can be expected keep his back turned on a naked woman. Surely this is a great crime! He grunts and clenches his fists as the passion in his heart sets his skin ablaze.

"Now I will turn around…" Anoki shouts, wiping water out of her cheerful eyes.

Before she can finish her sentence, he strips down to his loincloth. Her eyes widen. She gasps in a different way when she glimpses his curved buttocks and nude legs.

Kiowa extends his arms over his head, then dives into the water. His hair whips behind his head as he submerges in a splash and an explosion of air bubbles.

With a few powerful strokes he's already in the center of the pond. "This is paradise," Kiowa shouts, hearing his voice echo off the towering walls.

"Oh, you must be careful how loud you speak here," Anoki warns him.

"Why?" Kiowa wonders.

"Because the ancient woman who saw a god here and heard his name never died. She is so old her skin turned blue and her eyes went bad. She cannot catch game, so all she can eat is corn. If you call her, the last thing you will ever see is her old, evil, toothless face."

"Who is she?"

"She is the second daughter of the first Indians. She saw a god resting beneath the waterfall and singing a song about himself. When she heard his name, she called out to him. He was angry that a mortal had seen him, so he spread his eagle wings and flew away. He was so beautiful she wandered in and out of every cave searching for him. She called his name over and over again but never found him."

"What was her name?"

"I do not know her original name. But we call her Ayko. When you speak too loudly in sacred places, she repeats what she hears because she is trying to trick you into one of her caves. No one can resist repeating her words once they hear them. That's how she tricks you. She draws you nearer and nearer until she traps you and eats you alive."

Should I shout to the old evil woman that I love Anoki? Kiowa excites himself at the challenge. Do not be foolish. Use your fox thoughts. What if Ayko shouts something back that you do not want to hear? Anoki is right. For now I must watch what I say.

Rippling waves distort Anoki's naked frame. Kiowa catches himself staring, waiting for the ripples to stop, but they never do. Not so long as the falls pour water into the pool.

"It is always spring here," Anoki tells him. She flips her wet hair out of her face.

He laughs and takes a deep breath as he swims to the waterfall. Water slams against his head and forces him under the surface.

"Kiowa, be careful!"

"Kiowa, be careful!" Ayko calls out.

Anoki inhales sharply and covers her mouth.

He dives down, then pops back up behind the clear sheeting waterfall.

"Anoki! I think I am in love with you!" he shouts in his language as he leaps out of the white rushing falls.

Anoki gulps.

The old evil woman repeats Kiowa's words. "I love you! I love you! I love you!"

Oh no. It is true. She repeats words I cannot resist. "I LOVE YOU!"

"I love you! I love you! I love you!" Anoki's words echo.

Kiowa's body disappears beneath the water. Ha! I have tricked the gods.

Anoki laughs and cups her hands over her mouth. "Okay, that is enough!" She promises herself not to repeat Ayko's words. Best not to tempt her. Ugh…the sight of her face would kill me. She shudders at the thought.

When Kiowa surfaces, Anoki says, "Ayko heard you."

"Oh really? I forgot that you can speak my language. What did she say back?"

"I love you! I love you! I love you!" Anoki repeats in a low tone.

Her drenched black hair presses tightly against her smooth neck. She flips it back by arching her back and snapping her neck. The motion speeds up his heart and burns deep into his memory. Water droplets hang off her earlobes like diamond earrings.

He swims to her.

She pushes him away. "I will not be easily won with kind words and handsome looks. You have to prove your love to me in some worthy test."

The two laugh and play like children in the garden of Eden until the sun sets on their sparkling oasis.

When they exit the pool, Anoki demands the same honorable decency.

"Look away!" she orders him as she wipes herself down and slips her dress back on.

Uncle warned me she would test me. This test is not so hard. Anoki is a delicate flower. Not something to thrust my love into quickly and discard. Makes Trouble cannot be right. All women do not want a quick fix of love. Well, at least Anoki is not like any woman I have ever known. She is something special. Something sacred. She is to be cherished. Protected. Respected. Honored. Anoki, your voice is sweet as honey. Your lips soft as flowers. Your hair as fine as… His thoughts cease when he catches her looking at him.

Oh, how I want to touch him, she thinks. You are the only man I know who has captured the wild in your beautiful face and hair! Your fearless dark brown eyes flash kindness towards me, so I will be sure not to make an enemy of you. My heart would break if your eyes flared fiery hatred towards me.

Kiowa wasn't sure what made Anoki smile, but he was happy to see her do it.

To hold any part of him is to pet a wolf and play with a cougar at the same time, she thinks. I could stare at him all day with loving eyes that say, "I know you are as powerful as a grizzly bear, but with my heart, please, please be as gentle as a flower." Does he even know how fragile my heart is?

"Are you cold?" he asks when he sees her shivering.

She nods.

"I'll gather wood and build us a fire."

"I'll pick corn."

Both do their respective tasks quickly. The fire itself is lit by twisting a stick in his bowstring and thrusting his hands back and forth until an ember ignites in a bundle of dry grass.

"I have never seen a fire built this way. You are very good at that!" Anoki compliments him as she sets the ears of corn down and twists her hair into a tight ponytail. She clenches her fists and wrings the water out.

"How do you light a fire?"

"We preserve embers as much as we can. Then, if those go out, we strike two stones together over dry grass. The sparks make a good fire. But sometimes it can take all day."

She shakes her head and lets the damp wavy strands fall all around her bare shoulders.

Kiowa stares at her in a way that makes her think, Ha! Now you must be the one to wait.

When the sun dips down and quickly disappears, Anoki is nearly dry. The air cools. The sky dazzles them with stars. The caw of ravens returning home and the hoot of owls welcome night's arrival.

Anoki sets the husked corn down near the fire.

"Eat this while the corn cooks." She hands Kiowa a leather pouch of pemmican she prepared for herself and Walpi. Let us see if he appreciates Hopi meat. She smiles when he opens the bag and sees that it is meat. When he sets it down, her face shows disappointment.

"Is something wrong?" Kiowa asks.


	37. Chapter 36

CHAPTER 36

"No, no. Nothing at all." Anoki forces a smile. Why did he not like my meat? she wonders. Is he too good for Hopi meat?

Before she says anything, he takes her hand and pulls her to him. She melts at his touch and immediately forgets her grievance. She tilts her head back so that her lips naturally part. He had not intended to jump right in and kiss her again, but here she is, and as Paw says, "Women need to be kissed and fish need to be caught."

Having never kissed a girl, he doesn't know if he is getting better with practice or doing worse. Anoki isn't telling him anything, but since she keeps kissing him, he keeps kissing her. His eyes remain open while she closes hers. When he feels her soft lips press against his, a surge of eagerness causes him to tremble all over. I must be doing this right! he assures himself. If I were doing it wrong, she would not keep pushing into me with her soft lips and hot breath. He closes his eyes, then opens his mouth and works his lips in a way that allows him to put all the burning words of love he felt from a cold lonely winter inside her mouth.

Anoki greedily receives the unspoken words from his heart. She wraps her arms around his neck and presses her lips harder to his. She feels her knees go weak and tremble like two tall trees shaking in the wind. Why does he frighten me? Does he frighten me? Or am I afraid that he's going to hear my weak knees knocking and say something like, "What is that terrible noise coming from between your legs? Are you part cricket? Stop that, or I will stop kissing you." Oh, that would be terrible! Kiss me harder! Take my breath away! Steal my heart.

When he doesn't say any of those things, but instead contracts his powerful muscles and pulls her closer to him, she submits. They kiss and kiss until passion grows as hot as fire, threatening to fuse them together. She fights her nature and pushes him away.

Ah, there it is. I am doing this wrong, he thinks.

"Is something wrong?" Kiowa asks.

"It's just that I hope you don't ever stop wanting me this way. Or looking at me the way you do."

"Eyes must look! My eyes cannot look away from you," Kiowa says, closing his eyes and parting his lips.

"No, I mean I want to be with you always."

He opens his eyes. "Me too." He closes his eyes and parts his lips. She pecks his lips, now with her eyes open.

"I mean I don't want to be with anyone else. Just you. Is this how you feel also?"

Kiowa sits up. I did not expect all this talking to go on. How do I get her to be silent and keep kissing? Do I just kiss her and ignore her? No. No, she does not look like she will be ignored.

Remembering his lessons from the deer, Kiowa decides to be gentle. He runs his fingers through her hair. "I do not understand," he says in a soft tone.

"How do the Kiowa love?" Anoki asks.

"We love like we fight, with the strongest passion! Being by you brings me more joy and passion than can be measured."

"Passion more than joy?" Anoki asks with a trickery that makes him think of Moon Beam's foxy face.

"Of course! Passion is the greatest love of all."

"That is what I was afraid of." Anoki sulks and retreats into herself.

Oh no! Kiowa thinks. She's not going to kiss me anymore.

She turns around and leans into him, patiently waiting for him to ask her something. Instead he runs his fingers through her hair. He eventually wraps his arms around her and thinks, If you were buffalo, I could run you down. Tire you out. Then take from you what I want. But buffalo are ugly and you are pretty like a swan. If I chase a swan, it will fly away and I will never catch it. No, I must find what you eat and trick you into coming closer to me.

They remain in this elated state until a blanket of bright stars twinkle above them.

Patience. Patience. Why am I always the one to be patient? Anoki thinks.

"What are you thinking?" Anoki speaks first, losing her patience.

"I am thinking about what I said when I jumped out of the falls."

"I was thinking that too."

"Then I was thinking about what you said back at the stream, when you were with your brother."

"You heard that?"

He nods. "Now I am thinking…and thinking…and thinking…" He twirls her hair around his finger. Why are we not doing less talking and more kissing? I have been gentle.

Anoki folds her arms and squints. "Now I will tell you what I am thinking." She sits up and faces him. "I am thinking words are easy to speak. Love is hard to find. You say you love me. Show me the tracks or the trail so that I may know it for myself."

"Tracks. Look at me. Do you see the trail of scars you have left all over my heart?" Kiowa points to his chest.

Anoki looks down. She presses her hand to his heart. "No." She sighs. All I see is your muscle. Oh, and I want only to touch it, she thinks. She clears her throat. "I see nothing."

"Ah, of course you don't. There are no visible wounds, but the scars are there." He puts his hand on top of hers. "Being separated from you has wounded me terribly. Moment to moment. Day by day. From one moon to the next, your absence has swollen to a bloom of pain. And now that I am with you, you peel the hurt back one petal at a time."

"You make me sound so cruel."

"Nah. You are sweet Anoki. You are all I see when I close my eyes. My heart burns with a fire that spreads through my veins and makes me fall. I cannot eat unless I know you are safe. I cannot dream unless my dreams are of your face. I miss you. I miss the sparkle in your eyes. Have you fallen in your heart the same as I have fallen in mine?"

The fire crackles.

Anoki's cheeks turn bright red. "Stop. I can see the tracks."

"I will do anything you say so long as you say stay."

"Yes, stay!"

They kiss.

AHA! Kiowa has a brilliant thought. My words are your food, sweet Anoki. I will catch this beautiful swan yet!

"My heart rises to my lips." She holds up her hand. "Now it sinks to my palm."

Kiowa holds up his hand, and they press their palms together. "Then I hold in my hand what cannot be caught?"

Anoki nods. Her smile reveals all. She speaks so softly her voice sounds like the twitter of morning birds. "My pledge to you is this: My love for you is as deep as the earth and as limitless as the sky. You flashed into my life like lightning, and I yearn to feel your blaze. The more of you I feel, the more of you I have."

"Till we are one?"

She nods.

"Ah-hoe! Sweet Anoki…I had words of plenty bursting from my heart and rushing rivers through my mind, but now that I am here with you, they have all escaped me."

Anoki, be careful. He is a man and you are woman. If you are always telling him how you feel in your heart and not pushing it deep down inside of you, he will tire of your rattling lips. Besides, Mother says, "Men who rattle their lips are like the snake who rattles its tail. Behind the lips, both have fangs and will strike." Be wise, Anoki. Be patient, Anoki. Don't rattle your lips. Lure him with your eyes, lips, and hips, never with words! Oh, it would be terrible to love him, confess it, and have my love cast aside. You must hold your tongue, Anoki. He must love me. But how can I know for certain? Anoki bites her bottom pouting lip.

"…I have a large tepee and many furs. Plenty of meat." Kiowa finishes, but Anoki hasn't heard a word of it. She tilts her head down and stares at him with an intensity that invites another kiss.

"Tell me more," Anoki begs, wanting to hear what he has to say, since she was consulting herself and not listening.

"What more can I say?"

"I must hear more now, for I have waited so long."

"What you must understand about the Kiowa is that we are artists first. Did you see the paint on my arm before I washed it off?"

When he doesn't call it "war paint," she breathes a sigh of relief. "I did." She nods and places her hand on his knee. This encourages him to go on.

Kiowa swallows, bobbing his pronounced Adam's apple. "When I paint this red line on my arm, I do it on my heart arm." He holds his left arm up and shows her where his war paint was.

She leans forward and excitedly follows his trail.

"I do this because it is the arm that leads to my heart." He makes a fist, and his eyes flash with a wildness that startles an affectionate smile out of her. I could stare into those eyes and see something new every time I look.

"I do this when we go to war so that the spirits know that I am ready!"

She looks confused and wants to hear nothing of war, only words of love.

"I have been fighting a war since I met you. Can you see what I have painted with red since last we met?" He turns his arm over and shows her the smeared streaks.

"Ah…Let me redraw it for you."

He picks up cooled ash from the fire and remakes the marks with the charcoal.

She watches as Kiowa draws a round smiling sun on his forearm. A horse, probably Night Wind, carries what must be a girl on its back. Farther up his arm, Anoki sees a man with outstretched arms reaching for the girl on the horse.

"I hurt when I am away from you. This sun is the light I feel when we are together. It rises in me and shines in my eyes. My lips on the sun go dry because water cannot exist on the sun, and when I am away from you, they burn hotter than the greatest fires. My eyes burn like the sun without you, but I use the sun's light to search all over the earth for you. When I think the Navajo may return and I am not there to protect you, I send Night Wind and he brings you to me." His hands tremble and his voice cracks when he points to the horse painted upon his muscled canvas.

"When I am with you, it is as though I have water and my eyes and lips do not burn. I am myself again and the wound is healed. This is the war I fight."

She gasps and is grateful for her mother's advice. Had she uttered a word, she might not have heard him confess his heart's true words.

"Did you mean that I make you feel like the sun rises inside you?" Anoki gushes to herself, You are not a snake at all. You are something greater than I have ever known. You are the hope for a new life. You are center?

"Yes! That is exactly what I mean." He grinds ash up and smears it on his chest. The orange fire dances around the shape of a wolf. "This is my father, who watches my heart and tells me that I am right and it is good to confess these difficult words. I believe he is proud of me. I believe he would like you very much. I know he would want you to make his grandchildren. I cannot imagine a day without you. I cannot live another winter without you. Neither my body nor my spirit will survive it. My invisible wounds will return and I will die without you. These are my words. I write them with the smoke of my soul and whisper them with the wind of my lips. I seal them up with this kiss." He presses his lips to hers and steals her breath away.

Tears of happiness well in her eyes. "Then we must never part."

She wraps her arms around his burning neck and presses her cool lips to his. His hands no longer shake. They grow confident and travel down her slender shoulders to the small of her back. He pulls her in and breathes her winds deep into his lungs. They remain like this, as though they can never be pulled apart.

Gentle kisses. Delicate touches. Long stares. Sweet sighs. All the intricacies of love weave the fabric of their souls together in pure, innocent, adoring, coveted love.

"Tell me something, Kiowa. Why do you love me?"

Kiowa feels the fabric stretch.

A word from the author: If you would like to see the story with pictures check it out on Wattpad "Harvest Moon," by Zachary H. Lovelady


	38. Chapter 37

CHAPTER 37

Kiowa's face goes blank. His mouth instantly dries. He goes to open his mouth, but his tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth. My vision is my nightmare. And my nightmare is coming true. I can't speak.

He looks down and wiggles his finger.

There, see that? I can move my finger. But why won't my tongue work? Why do I feel frozen? He looks around, searching for the right words.

Distracted by his strange behavior, Anoki looks down and wiggles her fingers, too.

"I love you because you are so pretty!"

Impossible! He thinks…I am pretty? Me? She's utterly flabbergasted, but her face remains calm. "Is that it? You love me because of my beauty? Don't you know that at night, when husbands and wives make love, they can't see each other in the dark? To them love is blind."

His brows and lips crush together and squeeze awkwardness out of his face. His eyes blink rapidly. She is not a spider. I am not tangled in her web. No, she is a fox. I am a blue pheasant and she has me on the run.

Why do you make that face? You are much too handsome. Oh, see there? I love you because you are handsome, she thinks. "Did you hear my private thoughts when I was talking to my brother?" Anoki asks with a curious and cautious expression.

Not wanting this tender moment to end, but also struggling with honesty, Kiowa delicately approaches the subject. "I thought I heard you say my name."

"Is that why you came out of the bushes?"

Kiowa nods.

"Was that the first time you watched me without me knowing?"

"Yes."

That's too bad. Maybe you don't love me as much as I love you. I can hardly take my eyes off you. I want to know everything you do.

"But that was the first time I had seen you since that night."

She snuggles up against him and kisses him.

Oh, I wish you had heard my thoughts. I cannot remember any of them now. You have stolen them with my heart. Anoki yawns and shudders.

When she settles herself like a bird might shuffle its feathers, Kiowa reveals the last shadow in his heart. "Although my heart is flying, there is something that weighs it down."

Anoki's bliss instantly turns to a frown when she feels the fabric of their love tighten.

"Do not bore me with responsibilities. My whole life revolves around responsibilities. It is like I am a hawk tied to a string. Just as I am beginning to enjoy the freedom of flight, I am yanked back." Anoki huffs, then gasps for being so bold. She tilts her head to the side, clears her throat, and resumes her sweet tone. "I mean, you can tell me anything."

"My tribe values warriors above all else!"

"I thought you were artists first?"

"War is art." He puffs his chest out. "And they expect me, their 'greatest warrior' to marry a Kiowa squaw."

Anoki sits up, putting distance between them. "But you are here with me."

"Yes, but they want me there with them. Do you not understand?"

She shakes her head, "no," feeling her heart sink and her face with it.

"Okay, well, it is not just one of them. Nearly all of the girls who can have babies want to have my baby. Now do you understand?"

Anoki's loving face twists to fiery hate as she feels the fabric of their love pull tight, then tear. "You speak of flames. Of love. Are you sure you don't have fangs? I swear I feel fiery poison swelling in my veins. Why are you telling me all these things?"

"The Kiowa love is passionate. Onendah says our tribe's love is like a flame that consumes everything it touches. It appears like lightning, strikes the tree, and creates a spark. I am supposed to be the lightning, but I have seen in a vision that I am made of leaves and will blow apart."

"You can't tell me you love me, convince me of your love, and then tell me your love is like a wild fire and you want to burn me with it. I would rather hear, 'Anoki, be buried alive with your relatives. Anoki, wake up; we have left you in a cave of sleeping bears who are now waking with you. Anoki, here is a snake's den. Ha! Ha! Find your way out, but do not touch anything, BECAUSE YOU ARE SURROUNDED BY POSIONUS SERPENTS!' It is okay though, because I have thrown your heart in the cave with you. Now go find it.'" She stares at Kiowa with hurt in her eyes. "Kiowa, you saved my life. Why offer me love now when you could have just let the Navajo kill me? Oh, that would have been so much easier. Where is my strong but gentle hero?"

"I want to always speak truth to you. Love is not easy. Love is hard."

Anoki stands up, stomps her foot, and hisses, "How wrong you are. To love is to pass the test, Kiowa! Mother was right! You have words aplenty, but you are failing my test and your actions show it." She turns to run away. "He has confused love with passion. His love doesn't have the endurance of a single day. How am I supposed to build a life on this? His love crushes hope. His love cannot fuse our souls together with the eternal flame."

I am a fool. Women cannot handle truth. It cuts them to their core and makes them act like wildcats.

He catches her by the wrist.

"So you will not be true to me? I am a fool because I would be true to you. Is that it? I have shown you what is in my heart through glances, soft touches, kisses. You have shown me the same. You say you have the same feelings in your heart, and now you say you doubt love. You want to hold more than my hand. You want to kiss more than my lips. You want to capture more hearts than mine? Do you not understand that Hopi love is nothing like Kiowa love? If you want to go give your love to all the women in the world, then you will have no women. Are you a snake? Oh no, I know, it is because you think I will be the first to be burned? I have killed snakes before, and I can do it again! If I cannot trust you, I cannot have faith in you to be around and help me raise our children. Love has a price Kiowa, it is time! What woman would want such a treacherous man? To cheat my love with wicked women, I cannot endure it. Do you hear me? My heart will break." Anoki searches for a weapon. "Even robins, with the tiniest brains of birds, know this."

Kiowa sighs. This is how I found her, searching for a weapon. I cannot be her enemy. She seems so mad. Why does she not leave? How do I control her? I could no sooner control her than I could tell the wind which way to blow. She acts on her own. Look there. She acts like she is going to leave, goes a little distance, folds her arms, stomps her pretty beaded moccasins, then turns around and nips at me. Cruel cat! Kiowa dismisses these thoughts, knowing he will only make her angrier if he lets one word slip. He thinks a moment, chooses his words carefully, then says, "Onendah, our medicine man, says that love is the flame. Cherish it while it lasts. My uncle says I should look upon other faces. Makes Trouble says I should be with many women; that is the only way to prove to the world I am a great chief!"

"What do you want?"

"I want you!"

"To consume with fire? Ah, so your love seeks pain. Do you think I want to be burned? Oh, you cruel, cruel man. Do you not understand that love brings more love? Love cannot bring pain. Pain chases love away. Why did you even come here?"

 **A word from the author:** Does love seek its own? What is love anyways? Whenever I ask people this, I get a slew of different answers. Often they contradict each other. I've heard everything from, "love is sweet, to love is pain." What Ive concluded and tried to capture is that love is complex. I hope you're enjoying the story. If you would like to read it with pictures check me out on Wattpad. "Harvest Moon," Zachary H. Lovelady.


	39. Chapter 38

CHAPTER 38

Before today Kiowa never knew what it was like to feel the blow of battle. Now he is more battered than any fight he has ever been in. I could really use a shield. He endures her assault with half a smile.

"I am here because I don't love them. I love you."

His words stun her. She doesn't know what to think. "Because I am the prettiest?"

"I do not know all the reasons why. But the pain and worry disappear when I am with you. See, I can eat." He searches for the pemmican she brought. When he finds it, he snatches the pouch up, opens it, and stuffs it in his mouth. "This is all I know."

His authentic expression and the satisfied, determined look in his eyes conquer her. "You do love me!" She tries to hold up her last defense, a stern glare. Does he even know what love is? she thinks to herself. He must not. I should tell him. Anoki draws a long, deep breath. "Hopi love is as pure the pearl-white horse. Once you take my hand with love, mine will never let go. Hopi love goes on forever. It is full of color and light. We capture it and weave it in our clothes, our hair, and even our blankets. What do you think keeps us warm at night? A blanket? Ha! No. It is love. Love makes you ridiculously happy when it wraps its white wings around you and protects you. Love will take you anywhere you want to go. Love is gentleness for the one you love. Love is kindness in a limitless well. Love requires patience to raise children. When it is true, love can endure the test of time and it will outlast our cliff dwellings. Above all, it is loyal! The more you share it with other women, the less I have to give back to you. The more you share with me, the more I have to give back to you. And so you see, love is like the horizon; it goes on forever. It cannot be captured in one word. It is infinite and lacks the words to describe it because it isn't just a word. Love is also an act. It is a gesture. It is a moment. To have true love is to have the greatest treasure on earth and heaven. To have my love is to hold the most delicate and fragile part of me. Only a god could have created love. The father is the source. It is worth more than all the horses in the world. It is more desired than the best food. Love is the food of the soul. Love does not dishonor those who have it."

"I have never heard anyone use words like you do. If I am in the presence of the father's creation, am I worthy of holding this precious gift?"

"Without love, I am nothing. I am not protected. You preserved me. I could be beneath the dust of the earth and it would have been as though I had never existed if I did not have love," Her last defense is wiped clean of anger. She beams true love. "Tell me how you feel!"

"I cannot make you suffer with my envy. I am a fool to puff up and show off like the blow snake. I do not seek my happiness, but I seek yours. You speak with harsh tones, and yet I am not provoked. I cannot have one evil thought against you. My heart rejoices in this single truth. I know for certain that my love for you is a flame, and I can't share that with just anyone. You are right. We both feel the same way, and it is wrong to share it with others. Can you bear my love?"

"Yes! Now you can see. Your love brings me hope. Now I can endure anything. Love never fails Kiowa! It is the greatest magic. Our love is perfect!" He has her full attention now. She feels tinges of guilt for thinking a bead of shame could be woven in his perfect hair.

"Your ways are right. I only want one true love to hold this hand till it withers and dies."

"We must have faith!" Anoki takes his hand.

"We must have hope!" Kiowa cups her cheek with his warm palm.

"We must have love," they say together, then kiss.

He takes her by the waist and mends the tear with his powerful arms and firm lips.

"How will I know if I am true?"

"Yes, how will you know?"

"I cannot know. I am a man. My head is full of foolish thoughts."

"Yes, I can see that. What will you do?"

"The only thing I can do. I will dance before Taime and see if I am made of leaves or if I can withstand this eternal flame you speak of. If I do not fail the ultimate test, I know he will find a way to unite us. Make us one."

"What is the ultimate test?"

"I will volunteer to dangle in front of the sun by eagle claws."

Anoki gasps. "That is the ultimate test?"

"Can you think of a harder one?"

"No. How could I?"

Kiowa holds up his hand and rests it on his heart. "My tribe's heart will always seek my strong blood to pump and coarse through their veins."

Anoki sighs. "My tribe will seek my blood to birth the next generation of royalty. How can I be your enemy? We are a tribe of peace. We trade with the Kiowa. Can our love not mix into Hopi and Kiowa children, without the eagle's claws? Won't they make you bleed?"

"By the blood comes more blood. You claim your duty to your tribe, so it is my duty to my tribe that binds me. That is exactly what makes you their enemy. Your power to mix blood. They will not stand for it."

Anoki tilts her head to the side and looks at him with a calm, pondering expression. "I do not understand the ways of your brutal tribe. My people will cherish this love and foster it. It scares me that your tribe will not, but I believe your words and I trust that you will find a way to keep us safe." She leans her head against his chest and realizes she must ask him one very important question as she presses her hand to his beating heart. "Kiowa, is this bud of love already nearing a winter chill? Will it wither and die like all things the Winter Woman kills with her frosty breath? Or is our love still springing in our hearts?"

"Inside my heart, I feel as though it is as hot as summer. All I know is that the tallest mountains and deepest valleys won't stop my love from bringing me to you. Surely you can believe that. I have crossed both mountains and valleys to be here with you."

She smiles and looks at him with a tender devotion that makes his soul feel whole. "Yes, I can see that."

He tucks her hair behind her ear and says, "Only the Sun God can say what our love can do." Kiowa turns away from her. What he has to say next he can't say while she stares at him. Maybe I have said enough. Maybe I need not say more.

She nestles back into his chest. He leans down to kiss her again. She wants him to take her breath away for the rest of her days. Cut the string and let me fly, great war chief!

"I will not be gone long, Mother," Kida says as she packs her horse. She takes extra care securing her bow.

"I do not want you to go. What if some enemy should find you and make you a captive?"

"Then at least I will be someone's wife."

"Kiowa would never allow that."

Kida smiles at the thought of him coming to save her.

"I will follow his tracks to the Hopi village. When he sees how concerned I am, he will know that I love him."

"Can you make him love you by showing him the love in your face and eyes?"

"Yes. When he sees, he will know."

"You have much to learn about men, Daughter. With bow and knife, you are undefeated. But with the arrows of the heart, you have yet to draw your string."

"Always speaking in circles, Mother. I never understand your circles."

"Kiss me good-bye and go learn for yourself. Every daughter must have her heart broken or else it cannot grow."

I do not want my heart broken. That is why I go, dear Mother, Kida thinks. She kisses her mother on the cheek.

"I will return with Kiowa."

"He will come home on his own. If you ride in with him, that does not mean you have caught him and he is yours."

"Ugh…enough of this." She mounts her horse. Kida kicks at her pinto pony and reassures herself that her presence is in fact the only way to help Kiowa come back to his senses.

When she arrives at the Hopi village, she struggles to communicate her intentions. Though she searches high and low, she can't find Kiowa or Paw. She eventually finds a Hopi girl that signs in Kiowa. The girl tells her that Paw and Kiowa split up.

She points east and signs, the younger one went that way. She points west, the older one went that way.

Kida grits her teeth as she sees a group of men lead by the Hopi Chief, ridding east. Why would Kiowa ride east, when he should be riding west? And why are those men riding east? Kida wonders. I should follow them.

Though she is tired and it is already sunset, she rides late into the night and cautiously stalks up stream. She finds the group of Hopi men clustering around Kiowa's trail. She gasps and dismounts her horse.

Of course he and Paw would hide in a canyon. He is so smart. And so stupid! Why would you hide in a canyon? Now you have nowhere to run! There are too many of them. Do I get the tribe? Do I sneak attack? I'm such a fool. I left my bow on my pony, and my pony is walking away. Ugh…As she unsheathes her knife, she hears a familiar name.

"Walpi, tells me that Kiowa and Anoki ran off together. It is late into the night. Either I am going to have a son in-law or a grandson," the man who signed their location says.

One of the warriors chuckles and says, "Both would good."

The men laugh and follow the trail.

Kiowa, Kida thinks as she grits her teeth and clenches her knife. They had better not harm one sacred hair on his head. She bites her tongue hard to keep herself from screaming. They know Kiowa. How can they know Kiowa?

She follows the Hopi men and prepares to attack them when the time is right.

As the Hopi party moves upstream and nears the falls, they surprise the couple.

"What is this?" Kiowa shouts, leaping to his feet and searching for the weapons that are attached to his horse.

"Why did you leave your weapons fastened on that fine horse Night Wind? Don't you know he could run off or be stolen and you would never see him again?"

"It would not be hard to find him. I'm certain if he were stolen, he would end up at your house," Anoki growls at her father.

"Ha! Ha! This is a father asking what this boy's intentions are with his daughter!" Kikmongwi folds his arms and proudly stomps his foot.

Walpi doesn't say anything, but he waves at his sister, who scowls at him.

"I ugh…um…" Kiowa doesn't understand Kikmongwi's Hopi words, but judging by the look on his face, he pieces together what's upsetting him.

"If you are going to spend all night with my daughter, by Hopi law you are married. Is this what you want?" Kikmongwi pokes Kiowa in the chest.

Anoki translates. "He wants to know if you are going to make a dishonest woman out of me by keeping me out all night, or if you will make me a happy bride."

"That is the desire of my heart."

"It is the desire of my heart also!" She pecks him on the lips, then turns to her father and shouts, "We are to be married!"

"Well, then, be married!" Kikmongwi raises the whooping celebratory cry, and his warriors follow. They take one another's hands and dance in a circle around Kiowa and Anoki.

Kiowa awkwardly grins and waits for them to stop shouting before he breaks the bad news. "Tonight will not be that night. As you know, Anoki, I must pass the test."

"Will I ever see you again?" Anoki asks, feeling the string to her heart pull tight. She takes his hand and searches for evidence of his power over her.

"If I am true and if I can hold your flame the way Hopi do, then doubt me not."

"If you can't?" she asks.

"Then I will not return."

Anoki wraps her arms around his neck and sobs. "I would fill every canyon with floods from my tears if that were true. Do not make me like Ayko, wandering in and out of caves repeating your name over and over again. Please, I'm begging you, do not make me an ugly, lonely old woman."

"No, no, do not do that, sweet Anoki," Kiowa whispers.

"You are my chief. Oh, why did you have to discover us, cruel father? I only had to wait till dawn."

"Come now, Anoki. The smiling sun will shine on us tomorrow and dry your tears from this cold night." Kikmongwi pats his daughter on the shoulder.

The gentleness of this tribe is so different from Kiowa's. He's reminded of his noble deer friends. Strange that they should have the same dignity and trusting expressions.

Kida follows the Hopis' tracks all the way to Kiowa. She hears the whooping celebratory cry and mistakes it for the war cry. I am coming, my love! If you must die, I want to die also! She hurries through the shadows. She spots what she thinks to be the war party. Anticipation builds. She hears Kiowa speak calmly with no real fear in his voice. Her worries dispel. But why are there so many Hopi warriors?

She bites her bottom lip and maneuvers to a position where she can quickly grab one of the Hopi and slit the man's throat. As she does so, she sees that no one is threatening Kiowa at all. I don't understand; they have the numbers. She watches patiently and sees Kiowa embrace Anoki. A sharp pain stabs her all the way to her heart.

Is my knife sheathed in my chest? She looks down at her hand.

The agony is so swift, she hears the fractures of her breaking heart. Oh, Mother…she sobs. In that instant, Kida immediately understands the cause of all Kiowa's hidden pain. The happiness on his face. And the agony in her chest.

Kida seethes with rage. She bites her lip so hard, blood pools in her mouth. She points her knife at Anoki and takes a blood-spitting oath. "Your spring of love swells my river of hate. The earth is our mother, but she will soon bury you in the naval of her tomb. I will not stand for this! None of us will stand for this dishonor! You will pay with your life, foolish Hopi girl!"

Author's note: Parents... a constant thorn in love's side. How many of us have been disrupted by a parents unwanted interuption? Share your story in a rewiew. Quick reminders... wattpad has pics for every chapter. amazon has the whole book. "Harvest Moon" by Zachary Lovelady. Check us out on instagram: harvestmoonofficial


	40. Chapter 39

Chapters 39

When Paw and Kiowa return to camp, the squaw line up. Their gushing eyes, pretty smiles, and waving hands welcome the men home.

"Hello, great war chief! Do you need my help putting your things away?" Dancing Fawn offers.

Now that I know what you really want, I will not even give you a sideways glance, Kiowa thinks. He proudly lifts his head and presses his lips until his jaw tightens. His eyes rest on the distant horizon as Night Wind walks straight on.

Paw collects all their presents and counts them. He laughs at the safe distance the girls keep from Kiowa. It is as though some invisible line has been drawn that they dare not cross.

"A whole heap of pretty faces will test the love in your heart by tempting your eyes. Do not feel ashamed if your eyes lead your hands. No young man could be expected to keep his hands off so much longing beauty."

"Be quiet, Uncle! If I did that, I would be an enemy to love. Always you and Makes Trouble tease me with words. My love is not drawn by my eyes or my hands, but by my deep heart."

Paw sighs. He is dead. Stabbed through the heart by some woman's magic. He will never be the same now. If I were him, and those girls were running up to me, I would trade that one woman to hold even half of these girls, and there would be a dozen children by next spring. What a fool!

"How are you feeling?" Willow asks, handing him a comb and her heart.

"Better!" Kiowa answers, patting his belly. "My hunger has returned to me."

"Then I will be by your tepee later and will bring you all the meat you can eat. You have been without good meat for far too long."

"Thank you, Willow. Tell your sister Kida hello for me."

Riding past his tepee, Kiowa stops at his mother's home. He dismounts Night Wind and barges into her wicker hut.

"Welcome home, Kiowa," his mother says. Grass Woman stands, dusts her buckskin skirt off, and greets her son with a huge hug and a wet kiss on the cheek. She motions toward her guest. "Kida has been telling me of her trip to trade with the Hopi."

Kiowa stiffens.

"She says she had hoped to find you and your uncle, but she only found Paw's trail."

"Yes. He was easy to find. I was able to find his trail there and followed it back," Kida says with a half-smile.

If you could follow his tracks, you could follow mine. I must find out how much this fox knows. "You have always been a good tracker, Kida."

"I can catch anything that leaves a trail!" Her half smile expands into a full smile.

"Wonderful. Mother, may I speak with you by yourself?"

Kida uncrosses her folded legs and leaps to her feet. "I was leaving. I just wanted to tell you something, Grass Woman that I thought you must know. But I can see that Kiowa will most likely tell you himself."

Kiowa looks away.

"Kida, stay. You are like a daughter to me. Anything Kiowa has to say, he can say in front of you."

Both women turn their attention to Kiowa. Smiling mother and jealous frowning squaw make a strange mix of expressions.

"Well, since we are the family with Taime, I thought we could start the sun dance early in the spring instead of in the summer."

"What a strange request," Kida says with a scrutinizing scowl.

"Yes, indeed," Grass Woman says, looking from Kida to Kiowa. She lowers her hand and takes Kida's, thinking she's pieced together the cause of this strange request.

"I just feel like it would be better for the tribe if we had answers to questions before summer."

"Questions like?" Grass Woman grins excitedly, putting her arm around the woman she assumed was her soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

"Questions that will send me on my life's journey. If it is possible, do you think we can hold it in three—no, four—moons?"

"Why not tomorrow?" Kida smirks sourly.

Grass Woman's smile beams so wide, she shows her missing teeth. She lifts her hand to cover the blemish. "Yes! Yes, we can. I will tell Onendah. He will be cranky, but he is always that way now."

The next morning, Makes Trouble and Kiowa ride through the village.

"We begin in three days. Treat each other with honor these next few days. We do the dance of the sun. Prepare! Remember to stay away from bear, skunks, rabbits, and buffalo hearts."

Kiowa holds the magic pouch, containing the carved Taime figure, up high so everyone can see he has the power to call the dance.

Each person they greet gives a whoop of understanding and an "Ah-hoe!" vote of confidence.

After Kiowa and Makes Trouble finish informing the entire tribe, Kiowa searches for his uncle.

"Where can he be?"

"If I know your uncle, he is teaching the rabbits how to wrestle."

"Of course he is. I will come to your tepee later. Let me have words with my uncle for now."

Kiowa rides away and finds his uncle in the soft sands by a stream.

"May I speak with you?" he says, interrupting Paw's lesson.

"Wait!" Paw turns back to his student. "Grab my wrist like this," he says as he extends his arm and encourages the youth standing next to him.

The boy does as he's instructed.

"Now pull me into you and use your hip to lift me off the ground."

The boy lifts Paw's muscular body off the ground with little effort. He begins twirling Paw around. "Ha! Ha! Look at me," Snake Tongue shouts, spinning faster and faster. "I have a mighty warrior on my back."

"See, Snake Tongue, now you don't have to go spreading lies around the village. The next time Soaring Sparrow tells you lies, grab his wrist and throw him on the ground." Paw stands up and pats the boy on the head. "Size does not matter when leverage is on your side. Now, remember, we make deals like we wrestle. We always seek leverage."

"Uncle, please!" Kiowa interrupts. "I must speak with you."

His stern, frustrated expression and stomping foot make his nephew look less like a man and more like a child who needs to relieve himself.

"Of course. Go on." He motions with his hand.

"I wish to speak with you alone."

Kiowa leads his uncle away from his students. They walk in silence until they are away from unwanted ears.

"Thank you for telling me about that sacred place."

"Ah, so you found it."

"I did," Kiowa says with a relieved expression.

"So will you be having a son?"

Kiowa bits his bottom lip and shakes his head.

"What is it you want with her if you don't want that?"

"I want to be with only her..."

Paw folds his arms, an indication of a protest Kiowa had not anticipated. "You want to follow the Hopi way?"

"Hear me, Uncle, before you judge me. You have taught me since I was a rabbit, and now I am a Dog Warrior. I do not know what to do with this love I carry, so I asked my mother to sun dance. I do not know how to ask permission from the tribe. She says she will ask Onendah, but she hasn't done anything! I need to have my vision to test my manhood to know whether I am worthy of Hopi love. They have some flame that will burn me up if I am made of leaves. If not, my flame will burn her up like she is leaves. Are we both leaves, or are we both carrying the flame? Someone is bound to get burned!"

Paw says nothing for what seems like an eternity. His eyes shift from side to side as he weighs options out in his mind.

"Does any of this make sense to you, Uncle?"

"No."

"Please, Uncle! Speak your thoughts so my hope will not be crushed into shame."

Paw lifts his finger and says, "Here is what I know. But you already know what I know. Your brother said it when you wanted to bring the Hopi girl to the tribe the first time. The tribe will never allow a warrior like you to marry an outsider like her. I have seen women brought and burned at the stake before. I have seen them shot with arrows. It is always the warriors who think they can bring strange women out. It is always squaws who kill them. Maybe if you marry Kida first, have a child or two with her, then pretend to steal Anoki, she could be your second wife."

Kiowa's face twists in extreme disgust. "I could never be with Kida."

"She is the best of our women, and everyone says you will pick her."

"Who says that?"

Paw shrugs. "Everyone!"

Author's note: Poor Anoki. Rejected for her beliefs, her tribe, and her ways. Believe me, I can relate. My tribe (mostly my sister) rejected my love. So sad, but when you get lemons, you make lemonade!


	41. Chapter 40

CHAPTER 40

"Everyone is wrong! I will never be with someone I do not love. I will dance in front of Taime and find another way," Kiowa retorts.

"Even if you dance, do you think Naukolahe will show himself? Why do you think he left Taime with us?"

"I do not know. Taime is just a bundle with a painted stone in it. The Hopi have this story about the creation of Indians. Tawa is a god who grows and creates. Look around you. Can you not see all that grows? Would you rather hold a bundle in your hand or seeds that will grow?"

"Nephew, I love you dearly. Listen carefully to what I am about to say. Never! Ever! Repeat those words to me or to anyone else in the tribe. You are sure to lose favor. Ever since Taime was delivered to us by the Apache man who married into our tribe, everyone believes in its power."

"I do not know what I believe anymore."

Paw puts his hand on Kiowa's shoulder. "Believe in your power!"

"How can an Apache man marry in, but a Hopi girl cannot?"

"Does your Hopi girl have a great power she can offer the tribe?"

"No, not that I know of."

"If she did, wouldn't she have already used it to protect her father?"

"Yes, of course."

"There is your answer. She has no power. She's just a weak girl who will be tasked with cleaning animals, washing dishes, watching over children, and helping elderly."

"A slave? That is not what I would want for her."

"Kida would have to give her permission for a second marriage. As first wife, she could say no and burn Anoki at the stake."

"If Anoki has a baby before Kida, she would surely burn her at the stake." Kiowa states mournfully.

"Do you want to take that risk? Once you bring the Hopi girl to the village, her life will never be the same. And knowing Kida's wrath, she would put the fire out and start it over for days at a time. Just to teach you a lesson. That is what I see. What is your plan besides the dance?" Paw asks.

Kiowa's shoulders slump.

"Later tonight I was going to jump in the river and float down to her."

"And then?"

"I would steal a horse and we would move to the north until we reached the everywhere waters."

"I see. What would you do then?"

"I would build a canoe and sail us far away from all of this!" Kiowa says, waving his hand over the tribe. His thoughts flash back to Kida. "Has Kida told the other girls that she will cut them if they come near me?"

"How could you hear this but not hear that she loves you?"

"I didn't hear it. I just figured it out. The girls smile and wave at me. They have presents, but they keep a safe distance."

"That did not seem odd to you? You have enough furs to cover ten of them and enough meat to feed all of them. Is one wife really better than all of those wives?"

Kiowa shakes his head. "You are teasing me, Uncle."

"Maybe just a little, but the truth is this, no matter who you seek to be with, Kida will not make life easy for you. She will challenge them and scourge them with fire if she can. If she can catch you and marry you, she will."

"Then my plan is best."

"Think, Kiowa. Why is my name Paw?"

"Because anything with paws, you can find."

"Can Kida not follow two trails leading north?"

"What am I to do?"

"You need an answer to a riddle. The pieces you have now are Kida, Makes Trouble, the tribe, Anoki, her mother, her father, and me."

"I don't think I can carry all those pieces. I only want Anoki in my tepee."

Paw laughs. "When you take a woman, her parents will never let her go freely. She is not a horse that runs wherever you lead. You will take her family as well. And we are not pieces you bring into your tepee." He presses his hand to Kiowa's chest. "We are pieces inside your heart that come together for you."

"Kida is not in my heart."

Paw laughs and puts his arm around Kiowa. "Your mother does not know how to speak to Onendah. Probably she is taking her time thinking of a gift for him."

"Why would she bring him a gift to do his duty?"

"If someone asked you for a favor, would you not want something in return?"

"Of course."

"We must find a gift for Onendah or he will think us bad company. Until I can find out what he wants, you must promise not to run from us, Kiowa. You would break my heart. Your mother's heart. And, eventually, your own heart."

On the first day of offerings, Paw delivers ten beaver furs.

"I thought you might like to have these in the coming winter months. They will keep your feet, hands, and head warm. How is your health these days?"

Onendah glares through the slight opening in his tepee flap. He sucks his teeth and squints his eyes.

"Both are good," the medicine man grumbles, letting the tepee flap close.

I must have brought the wrong gift. Paw rubs the back of his neck and wonders what else Onendah might need. I cannot know what an old man needs. I'm going to go watch the slaves lift the great cotton timber pole. I bet my best horse they can't do it without crushing one.

Later that night, at the campfire, Two Moons beats a slow, steady beat on his drum.

"What did Onendah say?" Kiowa asks with great anticipation.

"He said he needs us to come back tomorrow. Old men have great needs." What could that wise old owl need? Worse yet, how am I going to get it without my best horse?

The second day, while the tribe gathers materials for the sweat lodge, Paw brings six otter furs.

"What do you think of otter?"

"These furs are soft and pleasing to my old bones."

Paw sees his opportunity to ask for an audience, but he is cut off just as he opens his mouth.

"What I could really use are some silky mink furs."

Because mink is a highly prized fur, Kiowa and Paw have to travel a great distance to find them.

"Of all the times to lose a bet, you chose the moment I need you most?"

"You do not have to remind me, Nephew. My bottom is sore riding this…this thing!"

"That ugly beast is what you get for being such a fool. All my life you tell me to plan for this and plan for that. What was your plan when you lost your horse?"

"I did not have one, and this is the only animal my friends would lend me. Let this be a lesson to you."

"Hee-haw! Hee-haw!" Even Paw's donkey seems to laugh at him.

"I could walk faster than that monster," Kiowa growls. Every moon that passes by is one less moon Anoki and I will have together. How could my uncle be so foolish?

In just a few weeks, the two catch as many mink as they can find. They trade for the rest, which takes another week.

"Uncle, there must be a better way. The sun dance is delayed and the tribe must be angry. We are nearly at the time we would have danced anyway."

"The medicine man's powers are great. My magic isn't anywhere near as strong as his. It would be like comparing an ant to a grizzly bear. He renews our power. In his vision, he was a shaman. He passed the test, and now we are all indebted to him."

"You make new fears rise in my heart."

"Why?"

"What if my vision tells me to be a shaman?"

"Why would your vision do that? You are already a warrior. In my vision you were a warrior."

"Two Moons says that no one can have a vision for you. You must have your own."

"It would be terrible for you to be a shaman. No one would let you out of their sight. You would spend your days casting spells. Searching for magic. Trapping souls. It is a hard life."

When Paw returns to Onendah's hut for the third time, the old man awaits him eagerly.

"Come in! Come in! What have you brought me now?"

Onendah leads him to an empty floor space. He points at the cold dirt.

Paw sits down.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"


	42. Chapter 41

CHAPTER 41

Paw leaps to his feet. He looks behind him.

"THAT IS WHERE MY SPIRIT WIFE SITS!"

"I'm so sorry, Onendah. I thought you wanted me to sit there."

"If I had a bear rug here, I think my wife's spirit would be so happy to rest upon it," Onendah says with a wrinkled smile that shows his cracked yellow teeth.

"Hmmm…" Paw humphs. He walks over to the door, puts his moccasins on, and departs immediately.

Kiowa greets him with a broad smile. "Everything is ready for the sun dance. The pole is deep in the earth. The buffalo-calf hides have been nailed by their lips all the way up to the top. A heap of elk horns circle the base. Eagle wings are tied at the very top, but I am not certain how they got them up there. The sweat lodge is ready. What is wrong?"

"He wants a bear hide."

Kiowa's smile drops to a frown.

"And it had better not be a little bear. We are going to need to hunt the biggest bear we can find. It is a large empty space." Paw emphasizes this by opening his hands as wide as his arms can stretch.

Will the flame in your heart even burn as bright, Anoki? Or has the sun of love dimmed to a star? Maybe her father will force her to marry another, he thinks. His fear causes his heart to rage with jealousy.

In the coming week, Paw and Kiowa trap and kill a grizzly bear. As Kiowa pulls bloody meat from the bear hide, he imagines scalping some poor fool who steals his "little woman."

Though the bear hunt is much faster than the mink hunt, the tanning of the hide and the prepping of the fur take just as long.

"Now the tribe waits for Onendah. Let us drop off these gifts before the dance begins," Paw says, interrupting his thoughts and pulling him back to reality.

"If this is the only way to happiness, Uncle, then why am I so miserable?" Kiowa informs his uncle as they wrap the bear fur.

"You are on the path for certain, Nephew. This is how you get there. Did you not have to cross a dreary dry desert to get to the beautiful Havasupai falls?"

Kiowa and Paw come to Onendah with their fourth offering. When Onendah sees his gift, he welcomes Paw with open arms. Paw struggles to get the bear hide through the opening, while Onendah gleefully tugs on it. He pulls and pulls until it disappears like a mouse in a snake's mouth.

"Wait here," Paw tells Kiowa as he enters the tepee.

After adjusting the fur every way possible, Onendah finally finds a place that suits the hide and himself.

"I would ask you to stay," said the wise medicine man, "but my wife's spirit has just arrived, and we would like some privacy. Tell the tribe we will begin the dance soon."

Not wanting to be rude or to offend the great medicine man, Paw hides his frustration and leaves the tepee just as he has the previous times.

When Kiowa sees the same disappointed look on Paw's face, his rage explodes. "You tell that crazy old man that I am going to have a meeting with him! You tell him right now!" Kiowa shouts, making a scene.

Paw holds up his hands and tries to calm his nephew down, but the lovestruck warrior cannot be soothed.

"Let him meet with his wife, and he will be in a better place when we come back tomorrow. Trust me, you will understand when you are married how sacred alone time is."

"I am getting my tomahawk and my scalping knife. If that old fool thinks he can make a mockery of me, he is gravely mistaken."

Kiowa keeps his word, storming off to his tepee. He promptly returns with both weapons in hand.

"Let us come back tomorrow, Nephew. Come follow me. You are tired and hungry, and this crime will only make things worse for you." Paw puts his hands up and pushes Kiowa back. "Think of Anoki," he whispers under his breath.

The sound of her name calms the young man. The fighting fires are almost immediately extinguished, but for one last spark, "We meet with him tomorrow! Or else…"

"Yes! Tomorrow."

The following morning, Kiowa stomps over to Onendah's tepee. He slaps his hand on the buffalo-hide flap and shakes the whole tepee.

"Kiowa, what a surprise. How nice it is to see you. Please come in."

Shocked by the old man's hospitality, Kiowa ducks down and nearly dives into the medicine man's tepee. One of the first things he notices is the strong scent of cedar.

"Leave your knife and tomahawk outside," Onendah orders.

"Why? In the presence of so many captive souls, do my weapons intimidate you?" Kiowa sassily responds.

"We use the knife, the arrow, and the tomahawk to raid. When you bring them into my tepee, I think you are not done raiding. However brave you think you are, you are no match for my magic."

The two stare each other down. When Kiowa sees that Onendah is as firm as stone, he turns and sets his weapons at the door.

Behind Kiowa, Paw gently taps on the door and is invited in as well.

Onendah wears a big smile on his face and invites his guests to sit down by the fire he has just lit. The early-morning light passes through an opening in the tepee and illuminates every lash of time on the medicine man's wrinkled face.

"Your uncle has been helping me improve my home. He brought me those soft furs. What do you think of them?"

Kiowa had never thought to stack so many furs on top of each other, placing the softest ones on top. "It feels really comfortable," he answers, looking about.

"Yes, your uncle brought me a bear hide as well, which we used to cover the cold earth. My wife came and visited me last night. She told me that I needed new stories to tell her. She was bored with the ones I had and went to some other fire, where they tell better stories." After a brief pause, Onendah continues. "Kiowa, you have become a great warrior. Many feathers fill your war bonnet. Tell me, will you soon marry a woman and replenish the warriors that have fallen?"

"Yes, tell us, Kiowa, who do you favor for a bride?" Paw asks with his hand stretched out and waving over the fire.

Losing all his bluster, Kiowa hesitates. He blushes and stutters. "The—the-r-e is a woman I fav-o-r."

Onendah's smile broadens. "What is her name?"

"She is the sun in my heart. I feel the warmth of her rays resting upon my face and passing into my mind. I truly desire her more than any other woman."

Onendah looks at Paw. His smile begins to fade.

"Like me, this woman will be eager to hear you utter her name. Tell me, Kiowa, few things make good stories. But love is a magic that still excites me. It will certainly excite my wife. Who is this woman you speak of?"

"Her eyes twinkle like the stars, and when she speaks, it is as larks upon my ears…"

Onendah reaches for Kiowa and pats him on the leg. "Yes, Kiowa, I understand that you favor her, but what is her name?"

"I feel afraid and at peace when I am around her. I am on fire, then cold as ice…"

Losing interest, Onendah motions toward the door and begins to speak. "Ahem…"

"Her name is Anoki. She is the Hopi princess," Paw interjects.

Onendah gasps. He sits upright and adjusts his folded legs. "The tribe will never allow you to marry a Hopi," Onendah says sternly.

Kiowa's shoulders slump, and the excitement rushes out of him.

Onendah laughs. "Oh, stop acting like a child! Is this why you have brought me all of these furs?"

Paw and Kiowa look at each other with blank expressions.

"I can see plainly that it is!" The old man pats his knee and picks up a long wooden pipe. Raven feathers hang off the end. Carvings of his wife and children tell his story. He uses a scrap of wood to light the tip. When he holds the pipe up to his mouth, he puffs on it and gets the tobacco glowing red-hot.

"If you wanted to know my thoughts on the girl, all you had to do was ask."

Kiowa shoots a death glare at his uncle. Now Paw's shoulders slump.

"Of course, I cannot refuse you now that you have helped me so much and made me and my spirit wife so happy. But there is a matter you must consider. Our people are free. We roam these plains and travel the earth and mountains acting out of necessity. When hunger causes us pain, we kill our four-legged brothers and sisters. We do this to sustain ourselves. We seek rivers because our mouths are dry and our thirst will do anything for water. We kill our enemies because they have planted hate in our hearts. But what we do for ourselves, we do out of our own desires. Neither you nor I can force another Indian to accept what nature tells him he cannot."

"Neither nature nor necessity can make me control my desire. I am telling you, Onendah, I need Anoki as the eagle needs long wings!"

Onendah draws a deep breath and exhales a plume of smoke. He hands the peace pipe to Kiowa, who takes a puff and then passes it to his uncle.

"Sudden joy has a small and dull flame, and is easy to blow out. Fire is always the victor since whatever it touches it will eat. Wouldn't you rather love hot, like fire, than cool like rain?" Onendah tempts Kiowa.

"Ah, that is what you said about lightning. I told her this and she was not happy," Kiowa confesses with regret. "Now I am not certain if I misunderstood you, but I do not want to make her sad. My heart cannot bear it."

Onendah sits up and folds his legs. "Let me say it this way. The more honey you eat, the happier you will be. Are you sure you wouldn't rather be with a few of our Kiowa women first? Looking on their pretty faces and lying in their beds might change your mind." Onendah raises a brow, testing Kiowa's devotion.

"I would rather stab my eyes out with a rock." Kiowa grimaces.

"Ha! Ha! Look there, he speaks true. I can see it in his eyes."

Paw smiles and nods in agreement, even though to him Kiowa's eyes look the same.

"Okay, Kiowa, I will consent to the sun dance. I see your wisdom now in getting it started early. Let us ask Taime what his will is concerning this forbidden love. If he favors you, then I will seek a vision. If not, there will be no vision and you will marry whoever the tribe decides."

Kiowa accepts this answer with a nod.

"Even if that is Kida?" Onendah inquires, tilting his head to the side in a way that makes Kiowa grit his teeth.

"I do not come to you because I have the answer. I come to you because I do not have any answers!" Kiowa seethes through his clenched teeth.

"Did you tell her that our love for our tribe is like a bolt of lightning? It eats everything it touches?"

Kiowa thinks back on what he said. How can I tell these men, who think so highly of men, that I'm all made up of leaves?

Kiowa detours the conversation back to his original concern. "My magic isn't strong enough to see what I should do next."

"You are talking about magic, and I think Onendah speaks of how we love," Paw corrects his nephew.

Kiowa's face goes numb. All of his features paralyze at once. Where are Makes Trouble's wise thoughts when I need them? Why did Moon Beam not leave one crafty ember before he abandoned me?

Onendah lifts his hands. "Our love consumes with a spark anything it touches. You know this. It is a beautiful violence, with passionate ends. But it is better to be the bolt than the tree. At least the lightning gets to decide which tree and how many strikes! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

Finally, a thought leaps into Kiowa's head like a prancing pony. But it appears as a question. "Is that what happened with your little woman?"

Onendah stops laughing. His face grows as serious as Kiowa's.

"He could curse you, Kiowa," Paw whispers.

Author's note: Don't you hate when you want something and someone stands in the way of you getting it?


	43. Chapter 42

CHAPTER 42

Onendah holds his hand up to silence them both.

"No, that spark did not burn my wife. Instead, it worked like a divine needle and sewed the fabric of our souls together. My greatest enemy, Time, worked his magic against me. He gave the Cheyenne many moons to brew a terrible hateful spell against me," Onendah confesses with supreme sorrow in his eyes.

If you cry, how can you have the greatest magic? Kiowa wonders, as his uncle speaks up.

"What is this spark you speak of?" Paw asks, genuinely curious.

"It is what costs you the things you love most," Onendah answers, looking for his pipe.

"So you hate the Cheyenne because they are the spark that took your wife and children from you?" Kiowa boldly asks.

"I have not had such good talk in a very long time. I am struggling for the words." Onendah looks down like he's searching for something. When he finds it, his face brightens. "Yes, the Cheyenne are my enemy, but so much time has passed that I cannot even remember their faces. Even though we found some of them and scalped them"—he waves his hand over the wall of trapped souls—"I could not even tell you which soul is in which prison."

"So who is your enemy?" Paw wonders.

"Time is the spark that took everything from me. That old devil even took my hate. Time is the enemy of everyone! With all these many moons, I have almost forgotten my wife's face. But she comes back to me sometimes, and that is nice, because it helps me remember her face and the love I have for her. That is our flame."

"A flame you can hold?" Kiowa desperately asks, reflecting on Anoki's words.

"A flame you both hold. A flame that does not burn out. Sometimes it is blue with sorrow, when one flame goes out. Sometimes it is red with passion, when both flames mix. Most of the time it blazes like the sun and it moves all about. I find it on my wife's lips. Her hands. I sometimes see it move into her eyes. She says she sees it the same way. It is always traveling from one Indian man to one Indian woman."

Kiowa and Paw listen to the old sage release the poetry of his soul.

"What is this flame?" Kiowa wonders.

"Not even I know that. No words can describe it. It is not even seen with your eyes, but these eyes." He points to his forehead. "It is not heard with these ears, but this one." He points to his chest. "To feel it is to truly be alive."

"Listening to this, I trust, with all my heart, that your magic is pure and true. I believe you will guide my heart, and so I put these things in your hands." Without realizing it, Kiowa signs that he has literally put his heart in Onendah's hands.

I will test your heart, Onendah signs back. See if it is true.

As he and Paw leave the smoke-filled tent, Kiowa can't help but notice how different the smoke and light mix in Onendah's tepee. He senses the old man's magic and trusts in his uncle's words.

"Do you think we would have gotten a different answer if we hadn't given so many gifts?"

"What do you think?" Paw challenges.

"I just don't know why I should care," Luther snarls, sharpening a stick with his Woodcraft Indian's knife. He holds the tip in the fire and watches it catch flame. Blowing it out, he inhales the smoke as he imagines the Onendah would. It stings his young lungs. He coughs and hacks till tears well in his eyes.

"You are so stupid!" John says, turning to Charlie. "Who is 'Earth He Made It'?"

"The Kiowa call him Naukolahe. They call him, 'Earth He Made It.' He had two sons, Fire Boy and Water Boy. They came down here and killed all of the enemies so that the first humans could crawl out of the earth's naval."

John wipes his nose. He raises his hand with one arm and pokes his belly button with the other.

Charlie acknowledges him with a nod.

"Why couldn't Kiowa just marry whoever he wanted?"

"Normally, Kiowa could, but because he and his father were such great warriors, the tribe wouldn't allow him to marry a woman who didn't have Kiowa blood. To them it would be like breeding a wolf with a Labrador: Maybe you'd get a warrior, but chances are, you'd get a sweet dog that would lick an enemy's hand instead of a wolf that would bite an enemy's hand off. Since the Kiowa were a warrior tribe, they needed warriors."

Kevin swats at glowing embers that crackle from the fire. He raises his hand. "What if they just ran off and got married?"

"See, you boys are looking at this through little-boy eyes and not through Indian eyes. So let me put it into Indian perspective. Yes, it is true that Kiowa was free to do whatever he wanted. So he could have run off and married Anoki, but the tribe was equally free to do what it wanted. In this case, they would probably just hunt the couple down and kill them."

"He just told us that!" John shouts.

"Sorry! Gosh dang," Kevin shouts shrilly.

Charlie hushes his troop and continues. "For three days and three nights Onendah went without food and water. He did this to cleanse his body. Then he entered the wicker sweat lodge, so that he could cleanse his soul. All this he did so he would be purified before Naukolahe."

Zack gulps. "Did he see him?"

Charlie finishes his cup of coffee and pulls his lips up to his gums, sucking air through his teeth. "He sure did!"

As the final preparations are completed, Onendah strips down to his loincloth.

"Nat aye, nah hay." The medicine man begins singing an ancient song and beating an old drum.

Outside of the sweat lodge, the Dog Warriors cover the woven wicker walls with buffalo hides. They weave strips of leather in and out of punched holes, stitching the skins together. One hide at a time goes up, until Onendah is sealed inside the earth's womb.

Inside the wicker hut, the temperature instantly rises.

By a camp bonfire, girls place meat down and line up in white deerskin skirts. With their faces painted white, they rest their arms on one another's shoulders and begin swaying back and forth. They offer one united prayer to Naukolahe.

"When he listens to your prayers, you will be happy. When he listens to your prayers, he listens to you. When he listens to you, you will be happy. When he listens to your prayers, you will be happy."

While they sway back and forth, the men fasten sage grass wreaths to their wrists and ankles.

Some of the Dog Warriors tie ropes to horned buffalo skulls. They march to the beat of a drum and shake their gourds. The skulls drag behind them, and buffalo teeth leave eerie grooves in the soft soil.

The elders begin beating a broad drum, while warriors quickly paint their faces and bodies.

Since Kiowa's family was keeper of the Taime, he paints his entire body with cold yellow paint that causes his skin to prickle. Everyone else paints their bodies green. He dips his fingers in green paint and draws his them across his forehead and down both cheeks until he forms a triangle at his chin. The warriors do the same, but with yellow paint.

When he's ready, his mother paints a green sun and moon on his chest and back. He leans down when she finishes and allows her to slide a necklace with two eagle feathers over his head. He opens his mouth, and she places an eagle-bone flute between his lips. He blows on it and mimics the eagle's cry. After four blasts representing north, east, south, and west, she crowns him with a rabbit-skin cap and sagebrush wreath. Finally, she props a single eagle feather in his headband and whispers a prayer. "Follow your heart and release your prayer when you know exactly what to ask for."

Except for their body paint, the warriors are all decorated the same.

Concealed inside his tepee, Onendah shouts, "Naukolahe, Father of the Heavens, we thank you for creating the earth that all living things walk or crawl upon. We thank you for the creatures that fly and the winds that carry them and cool us. We thank you for the water and the creatures that swim. We know not why you created these things, but we know that we are your children and they are here to sustain us. We are grateful for your creations and their many spirits. We know you require us to kill and provide for ourselves and our families. We love our families as you love us, and we know that this time on earth is to prepare us for the greater worlds and better hunting grounds ahead, which you have also created over the vast heavens."

"Hi ya!" the warriors shout. Then they jump up and down, sending the girls and the entire tribe into action. The women call out, flicking their tongues and encouraging their men.

"Who has the courage to dance on the troubles of men?" Paw points to a large mushrooming boulder.

Kiowa and several Dog Warriors race up to the twelve-foot towering boulder. They fight one another for the right. With great difficulty, they claw their way to the top, until there is nowhere left to stand.

"You few have been found worthy. You many are not. Go back to the circle," Paw shouts.

"Why ya, yi, hey ya!" Kiowa cries out as he begins dancing on top of the mushroom rock.

"Hey ya, hi ya," the warriors reciprocate in a chorus that makes the women and children smile.

And so the dance begins.


	44. Chapter 43

CHAPTER 43

The men, young and old, drop their drumsticks on a large taut elk-skin drum that vibrates, sounding like thunder. Their painted bodies hop up and down and take turns spinning in place. Somehow, their timing never offsets the rhythm when they strike the drum.

"Why ha ya. Why ha ya. Wha nay hay ya. Wha nay hay ya."

They bend over and thrust their arms forward, beat the drum, then lean back and spread their arms out, flexing all their muscles. They contort their fingers to look like claws and demonstrate their spirit animals.

"Hey yo hey, hey yo, hey," the men shout over and over again. After three repetitions, the women sing in a loud chorus and some beat their tom-toms and shake their rattles. "Wanna hey, wanna hey, yo, yo heeeeeyyyyy ah-hoe." Their pitch drops off and the men pick up.

Women dressed in beautiful elk-skin gowns bring food out for the children, then line up. One woman pretends to row. The woman behind her does the same. They form two lines. Each woman from oldest to youngest follows suit. They slowly step and emphatically flip their heads so that their long hair swirls around their shoulders. Beneath their hair, their necks are painted with war paint, which flashes colors like the underpart of a blue jay's wings.

The men sweat profusely. Their painted symbols streak and smear all over their bodies.

When the sun sets, the tribe cries out, and many overexerted warriors pass out. They are carried away, while many of the warriors let loose their prayers. "Give me strength in battle. Victory over my enemies and protection from their weapons," Kiowa hears them say.

The women are harder to understand. They always say their prayers on the first day and make sure no one can hear them. Kida's prayer is unmistakable.

"Free Kiowa from his blindness and make him see the true path," Kida shouts, releasing a fistful of her best seed as a sacrifice.

Obeying his mother, Kiowa and a small band of warriors comprised of Paw, Makes Trouble, Two Moons, and Weasel Tail dance and beat the drum all day and all night. They leap. They hop. They squat. They spread their arms and spin around in a fanciful exhausting manner that makes their legs and arm muscles spasm and their backs ache. To everyone's delight and entertainment, they pour their hearts out and shout prayers.

"Can you hear me above all these prayers, Taime?" Kiowa whispers. "I do not think it is possible to attract Naukolahe's burning eye, with so many prayers, so I will be polite and wait for my brothers and mother to finish."

On the second day, Kiowa leans back and stares at the sun. The intense light forces him to blink and close his eyes. He prays for strength, then opens his eyes and begins a ritual that only the greatest warriors pursue. He stares and stares at the sun, blinking only when he has to. He prays. He fasts. He dances. His weak arms and legs move with less enthusiasm, so he compensates with a repetitive chant. "Am I made of leaves or something else? Who am I?" He focuses on the blazing amber light in the sky, and to the best of his ability, he ignores his numb legs and shaking arms.

At the end of the day, the women line up. They spread their arms out and circle like eagles. When they touch their fingers to one another's, they smile, then spin away from one another, forming a bigger circle. The next pair of women does the same. Each woman does this, all the way down to the youngest girl. Their chorus sings a beautiful song that rises in volume with the beat of the drum. Their voices grow louder and louder, until a large circle of spinning singing women raise their arms, cross them, and finish the song in a grand finale.

"Do you hear me, Taime? Are you ready to receive my prayer?" Kiowa cries out.

When he hears nothing, he continues to dance and stare at the sun, even though his friends and family stop dancing with him. Legs go up and arms go down. Sun goes down and stars go up. All night long, Kiowa dances, until early-morning light.

Knowing how much his would-be son suffers, Paw decides to bring Kiowa's pain to an end.

"Silence!" he shouts, holding Taime figure up.

The tribe goes quiet.

"You are ready for the test?"

Kiowa nods.

"To the medicine lodge!" Paw orders.

Kiowa steps off the boulder. His legs collapse. No one dares touch him. He struggles to his feet to the steady beat of the drum. The people cry out. He trots into a large dome wicker hut. A hole cut out in the roof lets sunlight rest on a circle of sagebrush.

The tribe packs in shoulder to shoulder.

"Naukolahe, please, give him the courage of the cougar and the strength of the bear," Kida prays.

Paw and Two Moons approach Kiowa with fistfuls of sagebrush. He takes it, and they lead him into a sage circle. His body is the only body completely illuminated by the early-morning sun.

Paw holds up a tough strip of leather.

Kiowa shakes his head no.

The tribe gasps.

Two Moons holds up a bear claw. He walks around the circle and shows everyone. Finally, he stops and holds it eye level with Kiowa.

Kiowa looks away.

"AH-HOE!" the tribe shouts.

Paw draws a long deep breath. He lets it out slowly as he holds up a severed eagle's leg with talons still attached.

Silence fills the room.

Kiowa nods.

The women gasp. The men cheer.

Two Moons holds another eagle leg up, with the talons also attached. The tribe screams to the point of madness.

Paw and Two Moons look at each other and then at Kiowa.

Kiowa lifts up his arms and shouts, "This is the test. Let us see if I am made of leaves…or something else." He strips down to his loincloth and nods to give the go-ahead.

Paw and Two Moons thrust the eagle talons into his chest. Blood streams as Kiowa grimaces and strangles his painful cries.

"Cougar courage, bear strength," Kida repeats over and over. She presses her hands to her lips and rocks back and forth. Tears well in her eyes.

Paw and Two Moons push sharp bones through Kiowa's flesh, pinning the talons in place.

Paw lifts his hand. A rope with a loop falls from the hole in the ceiling. Two Moons does the same and another rope falls.

They slide the loops over the severed eagles' legs and cinch them down. Two Moons looks up at the men on the roof and gives a signal.

Leather scuffs on wood, tightening the slack. Kiowa steps forward. His breathing is heavy. The drum begins to beat. The slack tightens until the leather creaks. Kiowa stands on his tippy toes, supporting his weight only a little. Mostly, he hangs by the weight of his body.

"ARRRGGGHHHH!" Kiowa cries out in extreme agony.


	45. Chapter 44

CHAPTER 44

Paw takes the sage out of Kiowa's hand and replaces it with Kiowa's bow. Two Moons replaces the sage in Kiowa's other hand with a medicine bag.

Kiowa's chest is on fire and his flesh is tugged so tight it feels as though it is going to tear from his body. He wishes it would. Instead, it stays intact and suspends him in torment. He spreads his arms and cries out, "WHO AM I?"

As the drum picks up, Onendah shouts, "Though it is not my time to go back to you, Naukolahe, I ask special permission to meet with you face-to-face and discuss a matter of importance. When the fire is lit and burns with the white flame of love and I am found worthy, I will ask you in that special place if you will permit me to enter." While saying this prayer, Onendah pauses periodically to hear Kiowa's shouts. "What more could he offer? If he is ready, I am ready!" Onendah whispers, carefully searching his heart for any doubts.

The tribe responds by beating on the drums, shaking their rattles, pounding on their tom-toms, and blowing their flutes.

Gushing women sympathize with him. They cry out, "Kiowa!"

The rest of the tribe chants, dances, sings, and praises Kiowa's courage. Two Moons and Paw push on Kiowa's feet to spin his body around.

Children outside of the medicine man's sweat lodge spread word to their parents, who tell their neighbors, who run and tell Paw. Whispers escalate to soft voices. Imaginations begin to wonder whom he seeks and what the reward will be. When the excitement dies down, time idles. Each Indian imagines receiving a gift. Paw wishes for a wife. Makes Trouble wishes for many wives. Kida wishes for Kiowa as a husband. Women wish for more children. Children wish for more food. Everyone wishes for more and more. Nothing less.

Having fasted for many days before the sweat lodge, Onendah's body is completely empty of food and waste. As Kiowa hangs in the medicine lodge and the sun sets, Onendah feels it is the right time to light the sacred fire.

"It gives me comfort to know that the warrior who has asked me to suffer suffers with me."

A smile lifts his wrinkled cheeks.

"Help me. Help me, Mink Woman. Send your spirit wife. You are the harvester of love, and I need your spirit and strength to find the answers that this young couple seek."

As he leans in to light the fire, the pile of moist wood explodes into flames that burn orange at first. He chants, "Way ah hey, ah, hey."

The tribe circles his wicker hut and watches smoke plume out from underneath. They lock hands and sway, repeating his words.

All day long, Kiowa hangs and stares into the sun. Once the sun sets, Two Moons gives the order to drop Kiowa.

The ropes release. Kiowa's limp body falls. Instead of hitting earth, his spirit passes through his body and splashes into water.

Kida rushes to him and hoists up his head. She pours water down his open mouth and wets his face with her tears.

"Now you see! You see that it is me who will catch you!"

Outside, a red cloud of smoke plumes out the top of Onendah's sweat lodge. It grows thick, then changes through all the colors of the rainbow and crackles in sparks like the stars before it completely disappears.

Children run about shouting, "Onendah has vanished. We must not hurt any animals or any people till he returns."

Though the adults ignore this nonsense, one of the largest warriors, whom they call Bull, stands where Onendah's door once was. He holds a whip and lets the onlookers know that no one will trespass on these sacred grounds.

Inside the sweat lodge, the fire fades from blue to celestial sun-kissed orange. Onendah reaches out with his wand and touches the flames. Instead of burning hot, the flames freeze ice cold.

"There you are, Water Boy. Now send your brother."

Sparks fly off his wand as he thrusts it into the frozen flames. They change the flames from ice to blinding white starlight.

Inside the medicine lodge, Paw kneels down by Kida and hands her a bowl of broth. "Pour this down his throat and see that he drinks all of it." Makes Trouble kneels down by his sister. He pats Kiowa's hand and chants Kida's prayer. "Courage of the cougar, strength of the bear."

He helps her keep Kiowa's mouth open as the elder tribesmen sway their old bodies back and forth. Their leader, Two Moons, beats on a drum and keeps a steady rhythm throughout the night. He slowly blows on his eagle flute.

"Please, Naukolahe, hear my prayer," Kida prays, sensing a surreal vibe from Kiowa's body. "Bless Kiowa that he will see my love for him. Show him how true it is. Show him that I will do anything for him. I will give him the greatest gift a woman can offer. Life!"

Paw answers her with a smile and then a shrug when he sees her patting his hand. Her tears fall on Kiowa's face, mixing with his tears and trickling down his cheeks.

In his friends' and family's arms, Kiowa's body is safe, but his spirit is sinking. He exhales and sees air bubbles plume and break apart as they travel to the surface.

Down, down, down he goes, until light begins to fade. Before he ascends into infinite darkness, his spirit stops and suspends between both worlds.

Looking up at the sun, he knows he has Naukolahe's attention.

"Forgive me for doubting my magic," he begins, and sees his words written in symbols on air bubbles as they travel up toward the sky. Ah, so that is how they reach you. Feeling himself run out of air, he panics, but then he draws a breath underwater as easily as if he were a fish.

"I have not failed in heart or in strength. Now I humbly ask only a few things. If my love is true for a woman I am not supposed to have, let that love travel as freely as a seed in the wind. Bless it that it will find fertile soil and let this bud of love blossom into a flower."

As the bubbles travel up, Kiowa sees the sky turn amber orange, like someone lit a fire. Within seconds, the flames spread across the entire sky. He feels comforted that his spirit is under the water, but then, he feels himself rising and moving toward the flames. He turns toward the darkness but cannot force himself to sink into the depths. He tilts his head back and stretches his arms, accepting his fate. His body continues to ascend toward the fire in the sky.

Across the village, Kida has abandoned Kiowa to his uncle and her brother. She grabs her bow and arrow and disappears into the forest. No one sees her slip away, so no one can stop her. Had the law enforcer seen her, he would have whipped her. Kida's skill in clandestine escapes is equal to the men.

"You are not a medicine man. You don't have the magic to do as Onendah does," Paw tells his unconscious nephew. "Come back to us. Do not go to the heavens, Nephew. Your place is here with your family and me. Look, there is your pretend brother, Makes Trouble. You belong with us."

Inside the sweat lodge, the medicine man's silver hair lays wet against his skin. A pool of sweat drenches the earth around him. His skin glistens. His chants become whispers. He transfixes on the coals as he shakes a rattlesnake's tail with one hand and waves an owl's wing with the other. With each breath, he seems to grow weaker. With one whooshing thrust, he tames the white flame down to a candlelight flicker. Before it can go out, he leans over it and inhales, sucking it up into his mouth. His mouth explodes with light like he's caught a star. It illuminates his face and his eyes. He uses both of his hands to push his jaw shut and keep the starlight trapped in his mouth. As the light begins to fade, he undoes the leather strings and opens the door. Instead of people, he sees stars. Instead of sky, he sees space.

As he stands up, his body is weightless. He moves slowly, because if he moves quickly, his spirit will float away. The walk in the spirit world is a walk of reverence. Onendah looks around at all the beauty the creator has made. He sees the divine's hand in everything. It humbles him.

"We truly are nothing." He sighs.

He rubs his old wrinkled eyes as thousands of stars sparkle around him. He moves forward, careful not to step on any of them. When he moves too close, they startle and fly away. Their glittering trails can be seen way off into the distant black horizon, where Onendah wonders if they reunite with their mothers.

Looking behind him, he sees Earth close enough to touch but far enough away to be seen in its glorious sphere. He looks at the moon and sees it hiding in the Earth's shadow. Beyond the moon, he sees many planets and watches all of these celestial bodies revolve around the sun. When the sun finally touches the moon, the pale light passes to him and causes his body to glow.

"Thank you, wife. I could not have done it without you. Now let us go and see what Naukolahe has in store for us."

The stars that remember him from his last visit aren't afraid of him. They draw near him and twinkle bright enough to light his way to the sun.

Onendah holds his hand up and looks away from the fireball sun.

"Great creator, I have come for wisdom. Do not be angry with me. I do not wish to stay."

Outside of the light, little children with rabbit heads and human bodies hop all around him. They stop, perk up, and use their human hands to wipe their faces clean.

"Hello, dreams. My brain is not idle tonight, so I will not play with you. I am here for a vision."

"Come play," the bunny children beg. They use their hands to bend space into playful forms like squirrels, otters, and mountain goats.

Past the rabbit people, images start to form in the Milky Way.

"Ah, there is the lake of time I have been searching for," Onendah says. He sits and folds his legs. The medicine man sees nothing but ripples.

"I will sit and wait for the waters to calm down," he decides. When the ripples of time finally settle, he sees a clear image of Kiowa marrying Anoki. He watches the tribe's response. At first they grow angry. But then their anger is amplified by a blurry-faced woman who Onendah presumes to be Kida, but this woman has no heart. Only a hole in her chest that howls with words like, "I have been wronged. I must be made right." The hole is so deep that nothing can ever fill it. The blurry-faced woman leads the tribe in persecuting Anoki.

"Come on, little woman, show me your face," he says, but the image doesn't form. He watches as the woman greets Kida with kisses and gifts. She's especially happy when Kida brings Anoki bound in ropes. The woman punishes Anoki with beatings and stabbings. When Kiowa tries to protect his love, the tribe seizes him and binds him. They force him to watch as the blurry-faced woman slowly and painfully severs Anoki's scalp while she's still alive. They chant and rejoice in her suffering. Their ferociousness offends Onendah, but it sickens him when he sees the blurry-face woman tie Anoki to a post and start a slow fire with wet bark. He shudders when the woman quickly puts out the flames and starts them again. The medicine man watches the flames scorch the Hopi princess, but what the tribe cannot see is that when they burn her, the flames burn Kiowa as well. First in his eyes, then his lips and hands, and finally his heart. His whole soul turns to ash with Anoki's body.

A cloud of darkness swirls about him. The rabbit children dance around the darkness and chant, "Avenge her! Avenge your love."

Then they hop over to Kida and hiss, "It is she! It is Mother! Mothers should not hate. Mothers should love. She has robbed herself. Robbed us all."

Kiowa seeks revenge.

When the blurry-faced woman comes into focus, it is not Kida, but Grass Woman's spirit inside Kida's body. That is where the vision stops. Onendah is not allowed to see Kiowa's revenge, only his suffering. But knowing the warrior's power, he is certain that nothing short of a massacre will come from this. With a heavy heart, the old man whispers, "Love is rough. Is this salt settled? Or can it be shaken and savored? Stirred and smoothed?"

A word: which vision is to be believed? Are none to be believed?


	46. Chapter 45

CHAPTER 45

At first there is nothing, just the glory of space and all of the creator's majestic splendor. Onendah is about to return to his sweat lodge and awaken from his vision. But then he sees an image of the golden lance. The full moon moves over it and glows, giving the lance a peculiar power. The lake ripples and shows a new vision. Suddenly, a large gray wolf appears. Puzzled by what he sees, Onendah looks at the ghostly image and can't seem to understand it.

A flash of lighting cracks and a radiant white wolf comes from it. It is smaller than the gray wolf and sits next to the larger wolf like they are friendly with each other. The golden lance arcs over them as a full harvest moon rises behind the wolves. Briefly, Kiowa's and Anoki's human faces reflect in the glowing lake in front of the wolves.

"Now I understand," Onendah says with a weak smile.

Three weeks have passed since Onendah's vision. He relays everything to Kiowa in its entirety, which of course breaks the great warrior's heart.

Kiowa presses his hand to his wrapped chest to try to hold the pieces together.

"Soon you will see these scars. Was all this pain for nothing?"

"No. Let me finish." Onendah tries to comfort him, but Kiowa won't be comforted.

"I turn on my own people. How can this be? Is nothing to be done?" Kiowa asks, with frustrated tears swelling in his eyes.

"Something will be done," Onendah says, putting his hand on the great warrior's, "and I am just the man to do it."

Kiowa's sad face melts with a crooked smile.

"We will travel to the lake of life, up in the pine forest, where the wolves howl at the moon and the eagles build nests."

"But that is a day's journey. The hunters and the warriors are gathering to hunt the buffalo. Won't they notice if I am missing?"

Onendah cuts him off. "Every bird must leave its nest and fly. No one can tell it when it is ready. It must know on its own and it must summon the courage to do so. Are you ready to fly, Eagle Boy?"

Judging by Onendah's words, Kiowa realizes that he may be taking a long flight, and the thought of being without his mother saddens him.

"Let the tribe worry about its own belly; you have a destiny to seize. I suggest you use your hunger for love to flap your little wings and fly with me to the lake of flaming waters while the moon is full, or I cannot be certain my magic will work."

"I will be there," Kiowa says, looking at his mother's hut.

Later that day, Kiowa and Makes Trouble come up with a plan.

"You cannot look at your mother-in-law's face, ever!"

"Yes, I know."

"I'm serious. If you see her, you have to run away."

"I know!"

"For this reason, I will be the one to fetch Anoki."

"But her mother was taken away by the Navajo, so I can be the one to steal her away."

"You are not thinking. Think, my would-be brother. What if the black robes have returned her mother? They are not like us. They sometimes do strange things."

"You are right. I cannot take that risk. The black robes do strange things."

"Spend the evening with a mother you can look at."

When the sun sets, Makes Trouble is off and Kiowa is in his mother's hut.

"I am so happy for you," she says, handing him a plate of meat.

"You have been a wonderful mother," Kiowa says.

"You speak as though I am not going to see you all of my days, Kiowa. Give an old woman's heart peace. Never leave me to suffer the winters alone. Bring me grandbabies that I may spoil in the spring. Have you given any thought to your vision?"

"I have," Kiowa says, laying a log on the fire.

"Oh, Kida will be very happy. When will you tell her?"

Kiowa doesn't want to disappoint his mother, but he also doesn't want to lie to her.

"I think she already knows what I want."

"Oh…that is so good! I am so happy for you," Grass Woman says proudly, beaming with delight. "I am going to be the best second mother to her, Kiowa. You will see."

"You have always been a great mother to me. Do you remember when I fell asleep in the grass field hunting the deer?"

Grass Woman nods and laughs. "Oh yes. I could hear your teeth rattling like the snake's tail."

"You brought me a blanket and stayed out with me."

"Yes, I remember. We watched the sun come up."

"I want always to have sunrises with you, Mother."

"They always will shine in my heart and show me your face, brave son."

When Anoki receives news from Makes Trouble, she does not ask questions or waste time arguing. She simply smiles, excuses herself, and dresses in her nicest one-shouldered white cotton gown. She fastens her best bead necklace and whispers to her brother, "I will miss you."

"Where are you going?"

"To a real secret place!" Anoki smiles with a glow on her face Walpi has never seen.

"Can I come with you?"

"On one condition. You must find and ride your own horse. Night Wind is mine!"

"Oh, okay. I will go and ask Father if I can borrow one of his horses."

"You will ask Father nothing, you tattling bird. I would already be married if you had not rattled your lips like the snake rattles its tail. You will not interfere this time, dear brother. Either you will come with me now or Makes Trouble will add your scalp to his belt."

Anoki signs the last part, hoping that Makes Trouble doesn't see her signs.

Walpi swallows deeply and takes shallow breaths. "I will go with you, Sister."

"You are wise beyond your years."

With the small hours waning on, Kiowa bids good-bye to his aging mother. He watches her eyelids flicker before she falls asleep. When she begins to snore, he covers her with a buffalo blanket and kisses her on the cheek. "I will miss you terribly, Mother. Maybe in a few winters I will bring you children and you will accept them. For now I cannot let you rob me of my happiness. I will never be far from you, Mother. I am flesh of your flesh, heart of your heart. If you knew what was inside my heart, I know you would want this for me. It is true happiness, and I cannot help but be drawn to it."

He leans in and kisses his mother on the cheek.

"I will have Onendah watch out for you, and you will have Two Moons and Weasel Tail to protect you until I return."

A chilling thought crosses his mind. If I return.

With that, he rises to his feet, takes a sweeping glance, then wipes tears from his eyes.

Why all these tears? Tears for Mother. Tears for Anoki. Women drink our tears and force us to choose between them. Then they shed tears. What cruel creatures. Kiowa sprints to his tepee and fetches his bleached buckskin pants, some war paint, and a wolf-cap headdress. He plops his war bonnet on and exits the tepee.

Paw and Onendah are already mounted on their horses.

"Look at this pretty white stallion. Onendah found him just for you."

"You will need all of the sacred magic you can gather, and this white horse has more potency than any mustang on the prairie," Onendah whispers.

The three mounted riders make for a late-night band. They draw Kida's attention. Not because it looks like the three are going to do a raid—no, that would be normal—but because she watches Kiowa's tepee like a hawk. She has even found herself circling it, not really knowing why, but having a constant curiosity of all things he does. An impulse she can never ignore and can satisfy only by seeing him or being close enough to smell him.


	47. Chapter 46

CHAPTER 46

Never in my life have I seen the great medicine man Onendah ride off on a night raid. Why does he do this now? Kida wonders. She feels the impulse to follow them surge to its pinnacle and tip over to action. This sets curiosity off inside her mind, which reflects in her squinting eyes.

I am going to follow them and learn what they are doing, she thinks, racing for her horse.

Kiowa, Onendah, and Paw ride late into the night. They are the first to arrive at the sparkling lake, way up in the pine forest. As their horses come to a sudden halt, the Indians watch the sun rise. They relax and sing songs and wait for Anoki and Makes Trouble well into the afternoon and finally into the lingering sunset. Orange colors splash across the sky, turning clouds pink and blessing the pine trees with a powerful golden haze. Birds sing farewell to the day while crickets begin their nightly symphony. Firebugs ignite here and there. A wolf howls. An owl hoots. Racoons steal acorns from the squirrels.

"Are you nervous?" Paw asks with a teasing grin.

Kiowa nods. His emotions hurdle from one elated extreme to the other. The boy in him seeks his mother, but the man wants the woman who is replacing his mother. His stomach feels like it is flying and leaving the rest of him behind, which causes him to smile. But then his face stiffens, turning serious, and his eyes seem to be looking through the earth. Then the smile returns.

"It was the same when I took a little woman," Paw says with a comforting smile. "Between your father's death, her death, and the child she took with her, I am surprised my heart has any room left in it."

"You have a big heart and I have made a place in it."

"You have taken all the space in it, and now you have not told me your plan. Will you be leaving me as well? Can I come with you?"

"Onendah hasn't said, Uncle."

Paw searches Kiowa's face for the prospect of hope. He doesn't find what he's looking for. All he sees is his nephew looking for some sign of Anoki.

Off in the distance, where Kiowa can't see, Kida halts her horse. She ties him to a tree and paints her face and arms black. She crouches low and runs her fingers along the sharp edge of her rusty scalping knife. "If you are here and casting spells on Kiowa, Hopi girl, I will break your spell, steal your magic, and cast a spell of my own." She grabs her magic pouch and knife.

"I will gather wood and light a fire," Paw says, stepping off into the forest.

"I should have sent you to fetch her Uncle. Makes Trouble is probably off creating some mischief."

"Change into your wedding clothes, Kiowa. We won't want any distractions when the ceremony begins," Onendah orders him.

Kiowa nods and removes the roll on the back of his brown-and-white pinto pony. He fastens a wampum around his neck and paints his horse.

Kida can hear their voices but cannot make out their words. Onendah has a habit of signing his words while he speaks, so she thinks she understands him to motion "ceremony," but she can't be certain.

Thoughts swirl in Kida's mind. Surely Kiowa wouldn't be stupid enough to marry the Hopi girl and bring her back to the tribe? She surveys the men and realizes that is their intent. She laughs and thinks, Perhaps I should just go home and tell his mother what treachery her son plans. They will not be able to stop a herd of angry women. She presses the cold blade against her cheek and shifts her calculating eyes. She slides it down to her chin and taps the tip of her bottom lip. She feels her heart burn with rage and decides to stay. I will be swift! I will be silent! I will be deadly!

Many hours pass, and the howls of the coyotes, the hoots of the owls, and the chirps of the crickets wear on Kida. She grows very sleepy and can't help but nod off.

Soon, the large pale moon takes on an orange hue. A blanket of stars glitters all around it and shine unnaturally bright. Aside from the sounds of nature, the only signs of humans are the crackling fire and the flute Paw plays. With a huff of his chest, he pushes out his cheeks and keeps a constant pressure on a small opening in the pine flute. As he wiggles his fingers in a slow, smooth pattern, the notes of a love song the Kiowa have played ever since there were Kiowa dance off his pipe and beckon the bride.

"I have done many things I should have been afraid to do but for some reason was not. Tonight, I am not certain why, but I have great fear," Kiowa confesses with a broad, nervous smile.

"It was the same for me when my little woman and I made promises to each other," Onendah says, nodding and blowing rings of smoke, one through the other.

On the opposite side of the lake, Kida is awakened by the distant thud of horses' hooves.

She sits up and sees a sight that turns her hateful flames into spewing lava.

"I don't know how you know where to go, Night Wind, but carry my precious heart to him! Ya! Ya!" Anoki wraps her fingers in Night Wind's mane. She leans forward and kicks his side harder. He goes from a trot to a sprint.

Makes Trouble, covered in black-and-white war paint and wearing his bonnet, rides a pinto pony, leading the most beautiful woman Kida has ever seen. What's worse is that she expertly handles Kiowa's horse, Night Wind.

It is as though he was made for her to ride him. I could never ride bareback that fast. I would fall off and die, Kida thinks enviously.

Kida tallies Anoki's beauty the way all women do: face, figure, and clothes. I hate that your face is prettier than mine! I hate that your waist is smaller than mine. I hate that your breasts are larger than mine. I hate that you are more beautiful than I ever will be. I hate the gold arm bracelet on your slender arm. I hate your plain-woven dress. I could have made one just like it. It is a simple white dress with pretty beaded patterns. So what? Any woman could do that. After tonight, it will be blood red. Kida seethes, placing her knife in her mouth. She smears black paint on her dress and feels the flames of jealousy burn until the veins in her eyes crackle red. She quietly crouches down until her belly rests on the cool earth, then slithers along. Let us see if he loves you when I cut out your heart. No man can love a cold, dead woman, no matter how much his heart tells him to. Before morning light, your scalp will be woven into my dress, Kida thinks as she quietly stalks Anoki.

Drawn to Kiowa like iron to magnetic love, Anoki works the mane and furiously attacks Night Wind's side with her heels. She lets him loose. His front legs fully extend. His back legs spring with a powerful thrust that cuts the earth and kicks soft soil up behind him. She makes the stallion live up to his wild name and sends him into a full sprint. The enthusiastic rider sails past Makes Trouble's inferior horse. He cackles and whips his horse for speed, but no animal is comparable to Night Wind.

Anoki's smile broadens and beams as bright as the moon. Her eyes sparkle like the stars above her head and brim with absolute joy. Her cheeks burn with bright hope. Her rich raven hair whips wildly behind her. She can feel the wind push hard against her face. Her lips part and she shouts her joy. "Kiowa, my great chief! Anoki is here!"

"Anoki!" Kiowa shouts. He lifts his arms to the sky. His face explodes with righteous conviction.

He holds his muscular arms out toward her. "Come to me!" Kiowa passionately proclaims. He watches her reflection in the lake. In the sparkling crystal reflection, he sees her majestic spirit. She doesn't seem like a mere mortal woman at all, but more like an angel riding a shooting star.

"Is it possible to catch a star?" Kiowa asks his uncle.

"With magic, anything is possible," Paw answers.

Paw watches as the warrior's features soften and turn to angst. At this moment he looks so much like his father, Paw can hardly tell the two apart.

"She is here, Uncle! Makes Trouble, my almost brother, has brought me the greatest treasure. He did it! She is here. Now I have everything!"

"He did," Paw says, patting Kiowa on the back. "Is that her brother way behind Makes Trouble?"

Authors note: Dont worry folks, Anna & Chris will make an appearance. Keep in mind its 1859. I have 20 more chapters of prelude and then its going to be 2011. I promise it will be worth it!


	48. Chapter 47

CHAPTER 47

Paw puts his arm around his nephew and feels reunited with Lone Wolf, his brother. He pulls Kiowa in tight and doesn't say anything, but part of him feels like he's losing a son.

When Kiowa breaks free from Paw's grip, the emptiness brings an immediate sorrow. As the warmth from his nephew leaves, Paw cherishes the honor he had in raising his "would-be son." For though he did not know the meaning of all the lessons and all the sacrifices, it is now that his purpose as provider, protector, and surrogate parent has come together. My circle is complete. I was preparing this boy to be a man. The man is moving toward a beautiful woman. What could I offer greater than this?

"Go from love to love," are all the words that dance off his lips. He draws a deep breath, raises his flute, and blows every emotion he's ever had for the boy into the most beautiful notes Kiowa has ever heard.

A bright yellow-orange harvest moon hovers over the dark pine forest. Anoki dismounts Night Wind once she brings him to a skidding stop. His coat is wet with sweat. He heaves and neighs as she dismounts. When her feet hit the ground, fireflies share her joy in exploding bursts of excitement. Her slender left shoulder is completely exposed and glistens in the moonlight. Her face is calm and determined. Her soul vibrates like a plucked string. Her hands rest by her sides. Her face wears a delicate expression. The way she looks at Kiowa is how every man wants his woman to look at him, not just on his wedding night, but every night. Her female power is wrapped in desire and absolute want. Where her gaze rests is the unmistaken object of her affection.

Kiowa's nervous smile melts away when he receives her power. It is as though she is challenging him in a new way, and he does not shrink from the invitation, but embraces it. He points to his healed scars and wins a smile from her.

The way he looks at Anoki is the way every woman wants a man to look at her. A tender look that says, You alone can quench this terrible thirst. A confident look that ensures he will not shrink from love or manly duties, but will raise her up to multiply their love. A bold look that shows he will protect her and stomp her fear out with steadiness. A look of such love, he answers the eternal question her heart yearns to hear. The answer is, she knows now, she will never be alone again. Kiowa will always be there for her.

With her hair down and strewn all around her, she signals to the world that she is no longer single. Her beauty is magnified a thousand times by those silky black strands.

Kiowa is so taken aback by her loveliness, he doesn't rush up and sweep her off her feet like she expects. Instead, he admires her with an expression that she doesn't know how to interpret.

A gust of wind blows her hair around her face. She tilts her head and looks at him with inviting eyes and alluring lips. No man on earth could resist her.

He takes a step forward, then back.

Anoki blushes and flips her hair the way she imagines it will entice him. By the rise of his brows and the lift of his lips, she knows she has hit her mark.

His feet feel like needles on a compass, pulling him to his true north. Remembering his lessons with the deer, Kiowa approaches reverently.

"Kiowa!" Onendah shouts. He shakes his head and motions with his hand.

The two stand only feet from each other, and though they both want to embrace, the ceremony forbids man and wife from touching each other until they have made sacred promises to each other. Between the space that separates them, everyone present can feel their electric love crackling off the couples tingling bodies.

Onendah steps between them. He carries the wrapped lance.

With an eagle wing in one hand he motions for Kiowa to stand closer to his right and then Anoki on his left. The two obey.

A million jitters explode in trembles of excitement off the bride and groom.

"The love you two share for each other is most pleasing to my eyes. Kiowa, I have never seen your face shine like the sun. It does your spirit much good." He turns to her and tickles her face with eagle feathers. "Her beauty glows like no moon I have ever seen." Onendah smiles and circles the eagle wing over his head. "I have seen in vision that your love is forbidden. Because you are Hopi, the Kiowa will do you harm. For this purpose, we have met in secrecy, to summon Naukolahe's magic. Do you both agree of your own free will that this is the reason we are here?"

The two look at each other and nod.

"Naukolahe will not allow love to die. It is his most precious magic. When a man and a woman find it, he shines his light so that you may grow it. It is his desire that you both be protected and preserved. He has shown me what must be done and I am prepared to do it. But before I do, I would like for you both to express your feelings for each other."

Paw places paint bowls at their feet.

Kiowa lunges forward and flexes his muscles as he throws his arms up over his head. He lowers them so that his hands are pointed at Anoki. He claps his hands together and locks his fingers.

"I have caught something that could not be caught."

His power overwhelms her and causes her to spin around in an excited twirl. Her hair lifts and twirls with her dress. She holds up her right hand. "And I have received your love."

She dips her finger in white paint and paints the shape of a heart on her palm.

"And I draw it on my hand and offer it back to you"—she extends her arm—"as my most precious gift."

She walks over to him and tenderly presses her hand to his heart, where there are three distinct scars. "Oh, how deep my love is for you. I put it here in your heart because this is where I know you will keep it safe. The bear marks the tree and so I mark my man."

Kiowa looks down at her hand, then back up at her. "In my vision, you were the fire and I was the sky. I have caught your flame."

He dips his hand in yellow paint.

"And?" Anoki asks with a hint of fear on her trembling lips.

"I am not made of leaves at all. I know now that I can hold your flame firm in my sky. It is not just a flame. It is a great fire, but it will not consume me. I will use my sky magic to fuse the fabric of our souls together and protect our flame from blowing out," he says as he draws from his heart, down his arm, and up her arm. "Staring at the sun, I went blind. My spirit eyes could see that our love for each other is as bright as the blinding sun. What power could be greater than that? With my magic and the power of the sun, I connect myself to you. You are my center. You are my home." He puts his palm on her heart, leaving his yellow handprint on her chest.

A broad smile lifts his high cheekbones and enhances his sharp jaw and strong neck. With his eyes he asks if she feels the same as he does. With his trembling hands and his words, he shines his light on every inch of her.

"These words do please me," she says, beaming with confidence. "The more love you give to me, the more I will have to give back to you. I will take the thread of time and stitch our souls together with the needle of adversity. We will be like the lake that reflects the stars. No one can tell where one begins and the other ends, and so it will be the same for our love. Our fire sky will burn forever!"

He takes her hand. They stare into each other's eyes, making a deep connection that only two lovers can understand and reciprocate.

Onendah looks at the painted couple. "Oh, Great Spirit, hear my words. We small, weak children need your wisdom. Let these my children walk in your strength. Let their paints mix like the reds and purples in your sunsets. Make their hands kind to each other. Their ears open to their needs. Their voices soft, with kind words always. Let them learn the secrets you have hidden under rocks. Show them how to conquer their enemies. Teach them how to keep their spirits clean so that when they return to you, they will not wear the blanket of shame. With this prayer, I now use my power to seal them as one." He raises a bundle that he's wrapped the lance in. His old hooked fingers untie the leather strands. When he unveils the weapon, the moonlight creates an arch, and it activates with a sun-kissed celestial glow.

Anoki and Kiowa gasp. Their emotions for each other are amplified in the weapon's presence.

"Na he, no, na we nah ha," Onendah chants. "Give me the power to bless their lives. I have done as you've asked, Naukolahe. I have brought these two before you and humbly request that you use your power on them now."

As he finishes his prayer, the lance grows so bright it forces them to shield their eyes. An arch of light rises over Onendah and cascades with beams of moonlight that illuminate the entire forest and turn night into day. A strange vibration echoes off the lance like pulsating crystal. The trebles are so powerful they shake the earth. Mist vapors rise off the forest floor and enhance the clean pine scent.

Onendah's irises glow.

"I pray for this gift," Kiowa says.

"I also pray for this gift," Anoki says.

Paw and Makes Trouble chant, "NAT HAY NAY HOE!"

"Anoki, don't do it!" Walpi shouts.

Anoki takes Kiowa's hand, terrified that he might fly away. She sees with her eyes, but she can't believe what her eyes tell her.

The lance's light touches the magic symbols Kiowa painted on her, and they begin to glow like sunlight. Her handprint transforms on Kiowa's chest and glows as well.

"Look," she says, pointing to the marks. "Our love is true. We are connected!"

Paw, Makes Trouble, and Walpi look away from the blinding light. Despite the difficulty, Anoki and Kiowa keep their eyes on each other, gasping as they are overwhelmed by the sun's radiant blessing.

"As Indians, you will be tracked and killed, but as animals, your tribe will never find you," Onendah shouts. "Kiowa, you have chosen this woman to be one with. She has accepted your decision. Now you must both choose to be something else. Tonight and every night after, you shall not be alone. You must touch what you desire to become and skinwalk into the animal you desire to be."

"What is skinwalk?" Walpi asks.

"Naukolahe, protect my children!" Onendah shouts. He lowers the radiant lance so that it divides Kiowa from Anoki.

With his other hand, he plucks an eagle feather from his bonnet and demonstrates what it means to skinwalk. Onendah closes his eyes. His irises glow behind his eyelids. He tilts his head to the heavens like he's concentrating. When he opens his eyes, the white turns yellow.

Authors Note: Have you ever wanted something so bad you were willing to sacrifice your very existance for it? Kiowa made room for each other in their hearts and found that the only way to live was to become something else. Have you become something else to live in someone elses heart? If so, I'd love to hear about it. In case you missed my last note, I wanted to let you know that in just 19 more chapters, Anna & Christian will be making their appearance. We will be jetting from 1859-2011. Hope you're enjoying your read. Merry Christmas, if you would like to read more of my work, I'm working on a sequel to Scrooge. It's titled, Marley and you can find in "A Christmas Carol," Fandom. The work is titled, "Marley, A Christmas Melody."


	49. Chapter 48

CHAPTER 48

In an instant his arms grow feathers and pop out of their joints at obtuse angles. They bend in the shape of an eagle wing and sprout feathers all over. His face elongates and his nose and mouth combine, protruding into a yellow beak. His eyes roll back. As he blinks, his human eyelids transform into leathery, yellow eagle's eyelids. His mortal speech is replaced with an eagle's piercing screech. He releases a long, drawn-out eagle's cry. He drops the lance when his hands turn entirely into wings, but he catches it with a newly formed eagle's claw.

"I cannot believe my eyes," Paw says, falling to his knees. "You have unlocked the lance's magic. My brother must have known you could. Why else would it have meant so much to him?"

Onendah latches on to the lance with his other foot and flaps his mighty wings. He circles around the couple, trailing a sacred aura of sunlight.

He releases an eagle cry that frightens Anoki and excites Kiowa.

As he hovers above them, Kiowa looks down at his father's symbol and knows instantly what he wants to be. He points to the glowing wolf and feels a rush of anticipation when Anoki nods. He passionately kisses her for the last time as a man.

"What I sacrifice now, I sacrifice for you!"

He reaches up with an open hand. With his other hand, he touches his wolf cap, tilts his head back, and howls. Onendah drops the lance in his hand.

The second his fingers make contact with the lance, the power overwhelms him and surges up his arm. A deep burning sensation washes over him. He is paralyzed by a tingling wave of indescribable feelings over his body .

"He holds the sun!" Anoki cries out.

At first he feels fire, but then everything goes cool as ice. He feels a wind as strong as a hurricane blow his skin apart, but it doesn't hurt, not even when his bones pop. Instead, every nerve opens up and fires the greatest feelings he's ever felt all at once. Now he is connected to everything wild and disconnected from everything human.

This is what it feels like to hold the sun and lightning at the same time.

He smiles at Anoki as two wolf ears protrude atop his head, nestled among his black hair. A thick mane bursts from his chest. His hearing increases. The acuteness is so clear, he can hear the crickets stepping on the ground. He can hear Paw's racing heart. Anoki screams. He covers his ears because it feels like his head is going to explode.

His eyelids close over brown eyes, then retract over yellow irises. Colors fade. Now the world is black-and-white. He can see deeper into the forest. He can see more stars than his human eyes could ever see. The only color that remains in his vision is in the things that move. His eyes shift to Anoki. He can feel, see, and hear her pulsating jugular veins rushing blood into deep pink veins that spread throughout her face like vines.

Though Anoki sees Kiowa's eyes turn yellow and fangs explode out of his elongating snout, she doesn't turn away. Every physical sense she has tells her to run – every sense except her heart. The love and courage contained within those chambers welds her firmly toward her decision to be with Kiowa.

"I will pay any price!"

His sense of smell changes again. The potency of the pine forest, the flowers and animals, can be easily detected. He can smell Anoki like she has somehow crawled up his nose and danced all around. He can smell Paw, Makes Trouble, Anoki's brother, and distantly, Kida. Fur bristles up his contorting snout and covers his face, chest, and stomach.

He reaches for his mouth and tries to speak to Anoki, but he can't. His teeth seem to break apart and extend. His tongue grows long and retracts in and out on its own, bringing new scents. Scents he can't discern. It overwhelms him. Panicked by the transformation, he extends his hands. His fingernails grow and transform into long claws that immediately curl under his popping fingers and change into the shape of a paw. He hunches over and feels his legs snap as they arch and then straighten into hindquarters. Oddly, his bottom half seems to grow indefinitely, until finally stopping. It jostles back and forth as though it has a mind of its own. He looks back at his tail and feels a deep rumble in his diaphragm that reverberates off his lungs. He tilts his head back, drops his ears, and releases a long, deep howl.

"I am scared." Anoki weeps.

Kiowa stops howling and looks at her with words in his eyes, but he can no longer communicate with her.

"Does it hurt?" she asks.

Kiowa shakes his head.

With that last hurdle removed, she touches his side and tilts her head back, releasing a soft and delicate howl as she gently presses her fingers to the lance.

She feels the same energy overwhelm her. Every sensation comes more alive. She feels her lips part and a pressure in her nose, like she has to sneeze, but instead of sneezing, her snout grows and grows until it doesn't. All at once, white fangs push through the roof of her mouth and her front teeth file down to pointed peaks. Two pointed ears lift off her hair. She looks away from Kiowa, not wanting him to see her hideous features. As she blinks, her beautiful brown eyes transform like snowflakes. A drop of blue expands from her pupil and continues through her brown iris until her eyes are as blue as topaz. She blinks rapidly, seeing things she has never seen before. She sees a family of owls, a bat chasing insects, thousands of stars she didn't even know existed. She can even see craters on the moon. She can hear Kiowa's voice, but she can't understand his words.

"Stop resisting the magic," he tells her.

She doesn't even realize that she's fighting the transformation, but now that she realizes it's taking her longer than Kiowa, she submits. An eerie feeling comes over her as white fur follicles sprout up her face and down her arms. She feels her torso shrink and her breasts flatten out. Her lower body collapses inside her dress. Soon she feels something shaking between her legs.

"Anoki, are you hurt?" Kiowa asks.

She shakes back and forth, feeling more alive than she's ever felt before. Her sense of smell and taste are so vastly different from her human senses. She struggles to decipher all of the intensities.

"Tell me that you are well."

Anoki slowly turns and faces her husband.

Her piercing blue eyes lock with his yellow eyes, and though they say nothing to each other with words, their minds are connected in a way that they can practically read each other's thoughts.

"My love for you is stronger than an animal," she says as she stands on all fours and slips out of her white deerskin dress.

Kiowa tilts his head back and howls loud and hard. Anoki joins in with him, and all who came to witness the wedding now tilt their heads and howl with the couple.

When Onendah sees the transformation is complete, he looks to the wolves and speaks in a way that fascinates Anoki. Though his beak hardly breaks open, his voice is clearly heard.

"Speak with humility. Feel with infinity. You will find in this world a new happiness. With this joy will come new struggles: Some will be good; some will be bad. Like a seed, your love will grow."

"My prayer has been answered. Thank you, Naukolahe!"

"We will live as wolves the rest of our days?" Anoki asks, feeling pangs of regret.

"Only if you do not change back to human form by the harvest moon. Then will you be as wolves for all time. I encourage you to change back, but the choice is yours. Always remember where you came from. That is the only way to know where you are going. Time will heal the tribes' wounds, and it would be a great tragedy to lose my human children."

Charlie stands and flaps his wings like the great white eagle Onendah. He pretends to speak from high above the campfire circle.

"Suddenly Paw, Makes Trouble, and Walpi sprint out of the forest and transform into…guess what?"

"What?" Kevin asks, biting down on his fingernails.

"They all turned into wolves. Paw turned into a black one. Dark as night he was. Makes Trouble transformed into an auburn wolf. He looked just like autumn. Walpi turned into a golden wolf with black stripes down his back." Charlie describes the pack.

The boys gasp.

"They're werewolves?" Zack whimpers, looking side to side, as though the wolves could be anywhere.

"No…no…they turned into real wolves!"

"So wait. When they turn into wolves they can only turn human on a harvest moon?" John asks, with a perplexed look on his face.

"Legend has it that they have to turn into humans on the harvest moon," Charlie answers, pointing up to the harvest moon. "Then they have to decide by morning if they are going to be wolf or human until the next harvest moon. Don't forget, though, this story is about a wolf hunter."

"Eh?" Kevin squints his face so tight, he looks like he's licked a lemon.

"Yeah, when I started I asked you boys if you wanted to hear a story about a wolf hunter."

"But that was before we knew the wolves were skinwalkers," John protests.

"JUST LET HIM TELL THE STORY!" Luther shouts, slapping his hands together.

"Boys…shush up. Now, listen here. Do any of you know how a mountain is formed?" Charlie asks, sitting back down on the log, the flames reflecting in his lenses. The boys are immediately silenced, eager to know how the saga will continue.

"No!?" Zack answers, rubbing his chin with his fingers.

"It has to start out as a small pebble, doncha know. With a little time and patience, the stone gets a little bigger and a little bigger until one day—"

"It's a mountain," Kevin interrupts, leaping off his log and throwing his hands high.

"That's right. And so it was with the great wolf hunter, W.H."

A word from the author: Now we are wolves! Welcome to the pack!


	50. Chapter 49

CHAPTER 49

Roughly fourteen hundred miles north of Cimarron, New Mexico, a town in Canada called Winnipeg experienced a sudden boom. Only their development occurred in 1811. It was propelled forward by a man named Thomas Douglas, a proud Scotsman and the fifth Earl of Selkirk. He had received a land grant of a hundred and sixteen thousand square miles just off the Red River basin. His intent was to refine a decades-old trading post, where two rushing rivers met. Douglas thought it to be "the perfect location for an agricultural settlement for retired Hudson's Bay Company employees."

Now in that fair town sits a young man at a bar in a very old pub. King's Pub, to be exact. Then and now, it is the oldest pub in town. He holds his beer mug up to his lips and mumbles something like, "Leave her alone. That's all I ask."

Though he sits at an empty bar, with no women in sight, he mumbles the phrase repeatedly, allowing the beer foam to tickle his mustache before he presses the cold brew to his lips and lets the sour ale swell in his cheeks before pushing it down. The glass empties, and so too do his scruffy cheeks. His pointy Scottish nose and rosy cheekbones echo the genetic mix of French and Scottish ancestry.

He adjusts his round glasses and squints his sapphire eyes. With one last swallow, he uses his black cotton sleeve to wipe beer foam off his mustache, and then holds up one finger.

"Hit me, Alfred," he says to a bald bartender polishing a stack of gleaming shot glasses. The fiftysomething man smiles, lifting the dark corners of a short, trim black mustache that matches the rim of his gleaming head. His white shirt, apron, and black tie identify his profession.

"Last one, W.H. I don't let my customers wobble out of here. It's bad for business," the bartender sternly warns, pulling a silver tap forward until the yellow liquid fills the glass to the rim. Foam spills over and empties onto the floor.

The glass liquor bottles behind the bartender vary in color, size, and shape, but they all seem to sparkle in the candlelight, enticing consumers with a hint of pixie power.

The only other patron at the bar is a large man in a red and black checkered flannel shirt. He turns so that he's facing W.H. "He's been callin' you 'W.H.' all night. What gives?" When the man looks back at his mug, scruff from his jawline catches on his shirt and leaves fibers in the bristle.

"That's his name," Alfred answers, picking up another glass and polishing it, even though it's clean.

The lumberjack adjusts his brown suspenders, which pull tightly on his khaki cotton trousers. He glances back at the scrawny fellow dubbed W.H. and shakes his head, obviously becoming more agitated at the sight of the scrawny man. A man who is on the cusp of being a handsome "pretty boy."

"What doncha get aboot it?" W.H. asks with a smile as his head wobbles back and forth.

"He's Alfred. I'm Little John. Doesn't seem fittin' to be usin' letters fer a name."

W.H. turns and stares at the man. For a long, uncomfortable moment, neither says anything to the other.

"He's known around these parts as 'Wolf Hunter,'" Alfred answers, mediating the tension between both men. He glances back and forth, keeping one eye on each, and lowers his hand for a short club.

"SWEET BISCUITS AND GRAVY, HA! HA! HA!" Little John, who is not at all little, laughs boisterously, slapping his bear-like paw to his bulging knee. Clouds of dust plume between each breath and mocking laugh.

"You…you're a wolf hunter? I'll be…What next, Injuns?"

W.H. gets up, exposing his Colt 1851 Navy six-shooter. It's a revolving, black powder pistol.

"Injuns run on up the river to trade. Everyone knows they slip right by Winnipeg," the bartender says, moving from the billy club to a double-barreled sawed-off shotgun.

The lumberjack sits upright, then manages a few more laughs at W.H.'s expense. He lifts his mighty mug and prepares to throw the contents in W.H.'s face if he reaches for his gun.

"I ain't afraid of a man with a gun. I've always been a fair fight kinda fella," Little John says, keeping his eyes on W.H. through the bartender's mirror.

W.H. looks down. "Ain't no fair fightin' with wolves, fella. There's only dead and alive."

W.H. reaches in his pockets and pulls out some crumbled bills.

"I'll be at the east end of the maple forest, where the rivers meet, tomorrow morning. Why don't you come see for yourself?" W.H. says as he turns and stumbles for the door.

"I might just do that. We'll be cuttin' some hard blond in that area. Usually start pretty early in the mornin'. Ain't heard no wolves, though. Shouldn't be hard to see you catch a snipe."

"He ain't goin' on a wild-goose chase. If W.H. is there, you better believe wolves are in the area," Alfred says, with a respected brow raised.

"Sure, sure, ol' man. Wolves as big as polar bears! Can't wait to see 'em!"

Author's note: Wasn't that wedding beautiful? Funny thing about the living, for everything created, there seems to exist a predator. Except for man of course, man preys upon man. I learned this here in Reggio Calabria. I'm here working on a film. At the National musuem, I learned that Greece had expanded to a point where resources became scarce. In order to preserve their nation, colonizers sailed across the ocen and landed on the heel of Italy's boot. Here the Greeks erected temples. Mined resources. Built walls. Eventually, they bump into Rome. Why am I telling you this? America's story is very similar. Pilgrams colonized East coast America. Greeks prey on Romans, or mayber vice versa. Indians prey on Pilgrams, or maybe vice versa. All men prey on animals. But what if a man becomes an animal. What happens when men and men who are animals meet? Read on to find out.


	51. Chapter 50

CHAPTER 50

The following morning, a group of lumberjacks wearing thick winter coats of many colors finish their breakfast and prepare for work as the sun rises.

Dark spruce trees mingle with tall maples. The spruce are distinct from the maple in that their branches hang low, making them almost frown. Autumn had stripped the trees of their leaves. Wind had brought both frost and a heavy snow and made the trees bend, so that they looked like they were kissing each other. Where sunlight couldn't penetrate the density of the forest, ominous shadows warned onlookers to beware.

"Can lungs freeze?" Chris, a gnome-looking fellow whose nickname is derived from his appearance, asks. He rubs his bright red nose and exhales thick clouds of steam through his full beard. Moisture catches on the fibers and forms into ice crystals.

"Can't be. You're blowing dragon's breath," an old man replies. He's managed to keep his given name a mystery, which brings him boatloads of delight. His peers have dubbed him Father Time because of the long white beard that goes to his waist and the cracks in his face.

The five men fasten their snowshoes and gather their axes, saws, and hammers. The tight geometric webs of twine in their snowshoes serve their purpose and keep the lumberjacks from falling through the nine-foot powder base.

Little John sticks out like a sore thumb. His height and girth make him look more like a giant than a man. On the rusted head of his steel ax, a gleaming blade indicates a fresh grind.

"Tools sharp, boys," he says, licking his finger and running it along the blade. "Me and Biscuit are ready to make some gravy. You ever hear of any wolves out here, Gnome?" he asks Chris.

"Can't say that I have. I imagine if you went out farther in the woods you wouldn't have any trouble finding 'em. I'd rather not, though!" Gnome puckers his lips and nods his head, picking his teeth.

"Why do you ask?" Father Time asks, wrapping his arms around his ax blade. He spins back and forth and rotates his hips.

"Oh, this kook at King's was spinnin' my marbles yesterday. Said he was hunting wolves in our neck of the woods."

"If there was wolves here, we woulda heard them by now," Father Time says, combing his fingers through his beard.

Bob, the quiet man they call Silent Slim, leans back and howls. One by one the other men join in. They pause and keep quiet in the white winter's day to see if their wild call is answered.

When there is no response, they have a good laugh.

"I think we got a fella who's cryin' wolf!" Little John roars, slapping his dusty knee.

"Where'd you boys wanna start today?" Father Time asks, changing the subject.

"I'll scout for fallen timber north of the forest," Little John answers, winding up his ax and taking some practice blows.

"We might'in want to stay in pairs," Father Time suggests as he slides his hand into a cotton mitten. "Ya never wanna be alone in these woods. Getting lost out in this rugged wilderness and freezin' to death would a far worse end than comin' upon a pack of wolves."

"Nah. I don't need a partner to scout. With just the five of us, we'll have two saw teams. I'll head on up that ridge to sample and mark the trees."

"You got enough paint to mark 'em?" Gnome asks.

Little John removes a half-charred cigar and tosses it in his mouth. He nods as he strikes a match with his thumbnail.

"We should be able to get about ten out today, doncha think?" Silent Slim asks, hoisting a large two-handled saw blade on his shoulder.

"That would be a good day, eh, Foreman?" Gnome asks Little John, as they shoulder their six-foot blade.

"Yep, that sure would make the owners happy, wouldn't it?"

The men greedily nod, counting Canadian pounds that haven't been earned and already scheming ways to spend them.

As the men part ways, Little John tramples a path up the ravine. He pulls the branches back on the snow-packed maple trees and inspects the bases for ice. With the back of his hammer, he taps on a long spike to see if he can drive it into the tree. If he can, he measures the tree with his arm span, because any tree that is wider than his arms belongs to the King of England, Edward VII.

He finds almost an inch of ice on the first few inspections, which discourages him, forcing him farther down the high ridge and into a deep ravine. There he hopes the frost hasn't had as strong an effect.

After a few attempts, he finally finds one worth chopping. He winds his hefty ax up over his head and slams it against the tree trunk. With several chops, he chips off the bark in an X shape, then uses orange chalk to "paint" the tree.

"Got one here, boys!" he hollers at a saw team that meanders over an adjacent ridge and drops down into a draw.

"Ain't no wolves out here, just ice, snow, trees, and an empty heaven, with no God," Little John says, moving away from his team over to another tree.

A one-time Christian, Little John lost his faith when he lost his wife and six-month-old baby boy to the croup.

As the day wanes on, he gets farther from his team. Around noon, he's located eight trees after surveying thirty or so.

Feeling the sweat press against his black wool cap, he pulls it off and wipes his forehead with his frosty sleeve. Icicles have begun to form on his mustache. He breaks them off and removes his mitten. With his glove off, he flexes his fingers and reaches inside his warm pants pocket. Fumbling around, he removes a silver flask and unscrews the lid.

It ain't encouraging drinking on the job if the boys can't see. He chuckles to himself and takes a long swallow of whiskey. The liquid travels down his throat, lava hitting his stomach and coursing through his veins. Like antifreeze, the spirits regulate the temperature in his core, and with another shoulder-wrenching swallow, he feels completely cozy.

As he screws the cap back on and goes to put his hand back in his mitten, he sees something he has never seen before.

Beneath a tall evergreen, the skirt moves and the snow collapses on its own. He looks around to see if maybe a gust of wind caused the disturbance, but all of the treetops are perfectly still, and all of the branches retain their snow.


	52. Chapter 51

CHAPTER 51

He feels a creeping fear but waves it off, mostly because liquid courage runs his common sense off-course and amplifies his bravado.

"So you're not wind. That much I've figured out. If you be living, then let's put steel to flesh and find what lurks beneath."

As he approaches the skirt, his snowshoes sink deeper than he expected. He takes another step forward and sinks up to his waist.

"Aw, fiddlesticks," he bemoans, thrusting his ax forward. It disappears in the snow, making a perfect indentation in the white surface.

"Grrr…"

He hears a loud, deep grumble from beneath the tree.

"Come on, fellas, this is getting old!"

Suddenly, his courage plummets and the shiny rim of his blade is less powerful than he thought, especially now that it's buried and out of reach.

"Come on, W.H. You've had your fun. I got no understanding why you'd carry on like this, but I'll buy ya a beer and you can tell me how ya got the drop on me."

Before the lumberjack can finish his sentence, two large golden eyes are illuminated in the shadows of the tree's base. The snarling grows stronger and the snow breaks off the skirt as a massive timber wolf's gray snout protrudes.

The next things Little John spies are the wolf's large curved, clenched fangs.

With a heavy growl from its abdomen, the wolf snarls in a way that puts the fear of God in a man who thought heaven was empty. Yet a prayer slips from his heart and flies off his lips. It isn't a complicated prayer. Little John just asks that God allow him to retrieve his "gravy maker" and save his biscuits.

The two-hundred-pound wolf leans down and prepares to lunge.

Up on the other side of the ridge, the saw team works diligently. The team closer to camp fells a tree.

"TIMBER!" Gnome shouts, warning the team up the ridge so that they can make clear.

Bark breaks and the creaking tree falls to the ground. Seeing that they're clear of any harm, the diligent team up the ridge gets back to work.

"Wanna break for lunch?" Father Time asks Chris.

"Nah. I gotta get my pounds or my old lady's gonna tear my hide."

"All right, then. Let's get on over that ridge and find Little John."

On the other side of the ridge, Little John feels like he's outfoxed the wolf. He manages to use the depth of the snow to his advantage. Neither the wolf nor the man can put their entire weight on the frosty powder without sinking through. Because the wolf hasn't found a way to get to him, the lumberjack has just enough time to swipe snow away with flailing arms until his hands touch the solid handle.

His efforts to retrieve his weapon only entice the wolf as Little John appears to be more like a wounded animal than a man.

With weapon in hand, Little John readies his ax and summons enough courage to swipe at the wolf. He misses but finds that the wolf isn't as brave as he thought.

The beast stops snarling and backs up. He circles around Little John's flank and begins the horrible process again. Mane standing up, teeth bared, yellow eyes fixed – the predator becomes fiercely determined.

Little John swings again. A deadly dance ensues. For though the hefty man's stamina is strong, the wolf is no fool. He playfully pounces close, sinks in the snow, then lowers his head to make it seem like he can be reached. Then he snarls and lunges forward, snapping at Little John when he winds up. The inexperienced man falls for the bait every time. Little by little, the wolf establishes himself as the taunting superior. It does an excellent job of tiring out the man and simultaneously packing the snow.

When the towering lumberjack pauses to take a breath, the wolf steps up its attack, probing for the advantage with snarling fangs and snipping jaws that keep the man always on the defense.

As Gnome and Father Time breach the ridgeline, they look down and see Little John fighting for his life and obviously losing.

"Please! HELP ME!" Little John pleads.

"We have to do something!" the old man cries.

The men point at something that makes Little John look from them to the top of the ridge. Two more gray wolves slither down the decline and move in for the kill.

"STAY CALM!" Gnome shouts as though temperament were enough for him to survive.

When Gnome shouts, he catches the attention of one of the charging wolves. For a brief moment, the wolves pause and stare at Gnome. Gnome stares back.

"Get outta here!" Gnome screams, waving his arms.

By flailing his arms, Gnome taps into the primal mind of the wolf and sets in motion gears that decipher all actions as healthy or wounded. In an instant, the wolf charges through the snow and up the steep incline. Gnome turns and runs, confirming the predator's instincts.

This energetic wolf moves through the snow much quicker than the larger wolf that's attacking Little John does.

Unlike Little John, Gnome is the exact opposite of calm. He is terribly frightened.

"There's a rifle in the lodge," Gnome yells to Father Time.

"Race ya for it!" Father Time shouts, taking off for the lodge.

"No. Don't do that!"

"Last one to the lodge is a rotten egg," the old man croaks as he shuffles his snowshoes like he's a train.

When the wolf makes it to the top of the ridge, he's forced to decide between the two. He looks left, at Gnome, then right, at the healthy lumberjack who isn't showing a hint of weakness. Glancing back at Gnome, it lunges forward and puts its padded paws to use.

Though the stalking wolf doesn't have snowshoes, its thick fur divides its weight across its four paws more evenly than the duck-footed men putting distance between each other.

When Silent Slim and Jim see a gray streak in hot pursuit of their friends, neither wastes time asking questions. Both men abandon their saws and head for the lodge, thinking the same thing as Father Time. Get to a gun.

The wolf closes in on Gnome and bites down on his ankle. The lumberjack screams and tumbles in an explosion of snow. His severed Achilles sprays blood on the winter sand and pools crimson. He slowly backs away from the wolf, keeping his blade between him and the snapping bite.


	53. Chapter 52

CHAPTER 52

"I ain't afraid to die!" Little John shouts, heaving heavily as he swings his ax with less and less force.

He finally sees that the wolf is getting careless and putting himself within striking distance. He lifts his ax over his head and prepares to lower it into the charging monster's skull, but when he tries to release his wrath, the ax seems frozen in place. He turns around with a "what gives?" expression on his face.

A fresh-to-the-fight, clever wolf is behind Little John. It stands with a proud-seeming smile, like, "Gotcha!"

With a fierce shake of his head, the wolf snaps the wooden ax handle in half, stealing Little John's defense away, and along with it, his hope.

Now, with two wolves circling him and readying for the kill, Little John has finally lived up to his name.

He feels a crushing pain on his right calf and looks down to discover that the third wolf has returned. Its bloodstained muzzle has taken him by surprise. He releases a carnal scream that excites the pack.

"Please, God, spare me!"

He falls to his side and covers his face with his arms, as he has no fight left to give to the master butchers.

Between the break in his arms, he sees the leader leaping for him and acknowledges with the Lord 's Prayer that the end has arrived. The wolf that discovered the lumberjack happens to be the alpha wolf. When he sees a weakness and latches on to Little John's coat, the other wolves latch on to his side, stretching his skin so tight he thinks it will rip in two. He's totally cognitive of the carnage but wishes he isn't. He knows now that he underestimated their strength and sheer ferocity. It will take only seconds for them to sever his arms and legs. He wonders how much of this barbarism he'll be forced to suffer before the lights go out and peaceful death sets his reborn Christian soul free.

BOOM!

He feels the full, powerful impact of the alpha wolf as its slam against his chest, and he refuses to see if his intestines are sprawled out before him. "Thank you, God!" he mumbles to himself, managing a smile as the thought of his men returning with a rifle brings a rushing wave of hope.

A wrenching, ripping noise makes him scream and think, Is my flesh being torn apart? He lets loose a long scream. "Ahhhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!"

A second shot echoes off in the distance, hitting the wolf who had snapped the ax in half. Blood and brains spray all over the white snow. The wolf lifts its paws twice, then falls dead with its mouth agape and tongue extended toward Little John's exposed abdomen.

The third wolf gets wise and releases the lumberjack's leg. It darts back underneath the pine skirt, disappearing out the other end. With a quick howl, it calls for the pack, then vanishes in the snowy forest.

From the top of the ridgeline, W.H. chambers a third round by cocking his lever-action, Henry Big Boy .44-caliber, 1860 rifle. Cordite plumes out the barrel. He leans in and inhales. Vapors slip into his nostrils. He steadies his racing heart, holds the rifle up to his lips, and kisses it. He slides the weapon into his shoulder socket and lines his eye up with the long tin scope. His pupils narrow. The six-power lens brings him so close, it makes him feel like he's down there with Little John.

"Help! Help. He's got me!"

W.H. scans the scene. A limp alpha wolf, a second wolf in pieces, and a thrashing Herculean man. He flips the weapon on safe but keeps the hammer cocked as he rises from his prone position with a crooked smile.

"I'm dyin'! I'm dyin'!" Little John shouts between hacking gasps and teary-eyed sobs. "He got me. He's tearing my guts out!"

Although it takes W.H. a few minutes to work his way down the ridge, he can't help but laugh, thinking back to the burly man who spewed courage like a volcano.

"Where's all that courage now?" W.H. says and slaps the brawny lumberjack across the face to restore him to his senses.

When Little John sees two bright blue eyes grinning behind round gold-framed lenses, he stops spewing fear.

"How can you laugh at a dying man?" he asks, holding his blood-soaked hands up. "Ain't any part of you Christian?"

W.H. presses his fist against his short auburn mustache, hiding a smile.

As Little John pieces together what has happened, he begins to calm down.

"Ain't nothin' more enticing to a wolf than live bait," W.H. says.

Little John shakes his head in confusion. "Whad'ya mean?"

W.H. extends his hand. "Whad'ya mean, 'whad'ya mean'?'"

"Who's the bait?"

With a heavy tug, W.H. pulls his companion to his feet.

The pawn slowly pats himself down and finds blood everywhere. He examines his clothes and realizes the ripping he heard was not in fact his flesh but only his thick wool coat. He looks to the ground and spies W.H.'s brutal work. A small hole on one side of the wolf indicates the entry, whereas a devastating wound the size of his fist shows the exit.

The third wolf howls long and hard in the forest, desiring an update on its pack members.

"Follow your friends' tracks outta here. I got a job to finish," W.H. says, cocking his rifle.

"You're going after him?" he asks incredulously.

W.H. faces him and smiles with wild eyes, "Got me two hundred cartridges and fifty pounds of bounty on them two wolves. Might be as much as five hundred pounds of reward money out here, all said and done." He cocks his head and smiles wryly.

"You're crazy! You're really nuts!" Little John shouts. He quickly fastens his snowshoes and scuffles up the ridgeline in time to greet most of his friends. Father Time holds a rifle.

"We heard shots!" Silent Slim says.

"Are you okay?" Father Time asks.

"I'd be dead if it wasn't for…" He looks past Father Time and sees Gnome's bloody, mangled body in a disfigured pile. The tracks and divots in the snow tell the heavy-hearted story.

That coulda been me, Little John thinks but dares not say aloud.

Alone in the forest, W.H. follows the wolves' tracks back up the ridgeline from whence they came.

"Don't wanna be low; gotta get high. Can't see 'em creeping up on you when you're low." He huffs and puffs as he goes.

When he hears the cackling cries of the pack, he sighs and drops down into the prone position to take careful aim. He glances back at the lumberjacks and waves good-bye as they disappear.

"Don't need you fellas anymore, anyway," he hollers.

SNAP.


	54. Chapter 53

CHAPTER 53

A wolf trap clamps down on W.H.'s foot.

"AAAGGGHHH! Dadgum trap. I'm caught in my own contraption." He thrashes from the catch, but doesn't feel any pain because the heel of his boot absorbs the impact. He tries to set himself free with one hand and hold the rifle with the other. The balancing act results in him tumbling over.

SNAP.

Another trap clamps down on his arm. He immediately regrets being a zealot. Shadows approach. The rumbling growls grow louder and louder.

W.H. tries to aim his rifle, but can't align it to his eye with his arm trapped.

A wolf howls again, much closer this time. He can see flashes in the forest, and he knows it's circling. Circling and closing in with each pass.

"Wolves have distinct howls. One howl that is unmistakable is the rally call. The wolf's howl is answered by the pack, because the strength of the wolf is the pack and the strength of the pack is the wolf."

The boys repeat the catchy expression with inattentive mumbles.

"Soon they begin to surround W.H.," Charlie says, rising to his feet, "and they are everywhere."

The boys watch and wonder what happens next as Charlie stretches out his hands.

Winding and winding around, the growls get louder as they close in.

"For though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil."

W.H. lifts his rifle with his free limb and fires a shot into a small and starved wolf's chest.

"Because all wolves are evil!"

He rests the barrel in the snow while he slides the bolt back with one hand and manages to lock another round. Just as he raises the barrel, a wolf explodes from underneath the evergreen canopy. It successfully flanks him but mistakes the barrel for W.H.'s arm. It clamps down on the warm metal barrel and runs off with it. A second wolf runs up to partake in the "kill." It gnaws at the trigger housing, and its bottom teeth find the free space between the trigger and the guard. It bites hard and applies enough pressure to decompress the trigger.

"AND I AM DEATH!"

BOOM!

W.H. feels a rush of joy when the weapon explodes in a cloud of red mist and blows the top of the starved wolf's head off.

On the other side of the ridge, a horse's neigh catches the attention of the pack. The magnificent white Appalachian thrashes back and forth and makes such a commotion, it forces the wolves to decide between revenge and dinner. Caving to their carnal instincts, the majority of the pack divides and runs off toward the saddled pony. Two stay behind.

Baring fangs, snarling, and drooling, the wolves move in for the kill just as they had with Little John.

W.H. reaches for his bowie knife and quickly unsheathes it.

"One of you is goin' with me!" he shouts, readying the blade.

As one wolf goes for the wolf hunter's exposed side, he stabs the knife into its throat and feels it sink deep. The wolf bites at the blade and puts up a brutal defense until it loses its strength and goes limp.

The other wolf uses its cold claws to tear through the hunter's thick coat and connect with his bare flesh. W.H. screams, which only encourages the wolf.

Unable to distinguish between wool and flesh, the wolf bites down hard on the coat collar and viciously thrashes it with such force that W.H. can't help but feel like his jolted neck is broken. Leaning at the waist, he slips his arm out of the sleeve and pushes the coat down his trapped arm. The sleeve slides down to where the trap clamps on to W.H.'s wrist and catches there. W.H. gasps for air and cracks a slanted smile as he realizes he's fooled the wolf into thinking it's torn his flesh off him. The beast rips the sleeve and separates the garment from its master.

Suddenly a collie leaps on the wolf, snarling and tearing at its thickly furred throat. The clack of fangs chip both animals' teeth, and the snarls cause W.H. to try to protect his buddy Bingo.

"Bingo, no! Skin outta here, boy!" W.H. shouts at his only true friend, a black-and-white-patched dog with a single brown ring around his right eye.

W.H. uses his free hand to reach for his six-shooter. His traps work against him and restrict his movements. He twists himself around until his spine nearly snaps, but he manages to get a finger and thumb on the handle. All the while Bingo and the timber wolf viciously trash each other's hides with fierce bites and pouncing claws. Mustering the most pressure he can in this awkward position, the wolf hunter manages to unholster his pistol. He cocks the weapon and fires so fast that he isn't sure if he's hit his precious collie or the wolf.

Pressing down on the hammer, he watches the chamber rotate. He uses the front sight to aim at the wolf and fires a second shot, which severs the wolf's spinal cord. The wolf can't move anything but its snapping jaws, and those seek justice. Its pink tongue slips between its broken teeth, and before W.H. can fire a third shot, the wolf dies.

A brief, silent pause makes W.H. feel like part of his soul has been lost in the battle of savagery versus civilization.

But then a spotted tail stirs. Fear turns to elation when two shaggy black ears point up. Bingo shuffles out from under the wolf. His black nose is now frosted white with snow. He limps over to W.H., whimpers, and presents a wounded paw for his master to see.

Hurt here, his eyes seem to say.

"Did he tear you up, buddy?" W.H. asks the panting dog.

 **Author's Christmas surprise:** Autograph book giveaway! Jump over to instagram: harvestmoonofficial, I'm about to post it.


	55. Chapter 54

CHAPTER 54

"I got us into one heck of a mess, Bingo. Yer my best friend and a dang fool. I gotta get us outta here or we're gonna end up as supper."

Bingo licks W.H.'s face the entire time he pushes on the traps and struggles to set himself free. Once he releases the tension, he's able to slide his arm out.

"I'm hurtin' all over, boy, but it ain't my face. You don't need to go on like that." W.H. pushes Bingo away.

The pair quickly scramble to their feet. W.H. picks up his rifle and reloads it with fourteen shiny brass shells. He cocks it and peers through the scope to ensure that it wasn't damaged.

"Fangs and claws ain't no match for the Reaper," he says, patting the butt stock like it's a baby.

Bingo looks up and notices that the sun will be down in a couple hours, giving the wolves the advantage. He whimpers as W.H. searches for his bowie knife. He finds it in a pool of bloodstained snow next to the maimed wolf. He wipes the blade off on the wolf's hide and holsters it.

"I know. I want to get the bounty, too. But we'll just have to come back for their hides at early light."

He follows the lumberjacks' tracks out of the killing fields and looks for his horse. "I sure hope Cotton made it out all right." He whistles for her.

Rattled from the fight and freezing cold, Bingo shivers.

As the dog and man work their way down the ridge, W.H. sings, "B-I-N-G-O. and Bingo was his name-o…"

The dog prances to his master's tune, proudly displaying himself with puffed-up chest.

"Bingo, you're my hero! With all the money we'll fetch for the bounty, I'm gonna buy you a big steak dinner!"

The thought of a warm steak makes him lick his lips.

Kiowa's wolf eyes present the world in a way a man could never understand. Everything has a trail and is marked clearly by a heat signature in tracks that fade or hold strong.

He detects faint traces of golden light in fresh deer tracks. Every living creature has a distinct scent all its own. Between how he sees and smells the world, the wolf could find anything he wanted.

He follows them and sees the tracks of everything that's ever stepped on the earth's cool surface. Tiny squirrel imprints run along the forest floor and scamper up the trees. They disappear in tiny hollows, but he can see their gleaming eyes and hear their beating hearts. He logs their location in the back of his mind, and for some reason, he wants more than ever to punish them.

Rabbit tracks frantically dash across the pine needles, going this way and that with no discernible direction. Bobcat tracks follow close behind. A dried pool of crimson blood shows where that story ends.

Elk tracks are distinct and deep. They move steadily and become frantic, like the rabbit's. He identifies why. A cougar made a wide stalking circle and discovered its prey. He assumes that the cougar tracks end the elk's story, the same as the bobcat ended the rabbit's. To his surprise, he discovers bear tracks. The deep grooved foot traffic indicates that a fight occurred. But where the elk's end, the bear's resume. The bear must have won, because the bloody elk body was dragged away.

Now he can see history and the present at the same time. As he searches around, he sees tracks glow brightest where a deer recently stepped. He inhales and detects its gamey scent, approximating where a deer is hiding. The aroma of pine and musky water are so pronounced in his nose and mouth, he can't help but see where the animal has been all day. Its sex is given away by a faint hint of sweetness. Judging by the tracks' width and length, she's not much older than the doe he grew fond of when he was a boy. Do not worry. We can still be friends… I hope.

A new truth is revealed to this animal world he's been birthed into. Everything searches for food. Some seek grass, berries, and nuts. Everything else must eat meat!

His ears instinctively shift back and forth and bring the acoustic sounds into focus with each turn. When his ears turn out, he can hear the wind blow. The trees creak as they sway. When they turn in slightly, he can hear an owl's hoot and the deer's heavy breathing. When they turn so that they point straight up, he can hear her heart beating to the symphony of crickets that are loud all around her and quiet near her.

"I think I know exactly where she is," he whispers to Anoki, who trots up behind him.

Having never hunted, Anoki's senses are overwhelming.

"I am confused and pleased at the same time."

She sees many of the same things as Kiowa, but she could never think as a hunter thinks. To her, all is beauty. All is life.

"What do you hear?"

"I hear everything. I can even hear your heart. It beats like a drum."

"I hear crickets. I hear owls. I can even hear the bat's wings. For me it is the same, but more of it and much, much louder!"

The two wolves look at each other, laugh, then sprint off playfully through the forest.

The speed with which four legs carry a body is much greater than two ever could. Anoki runs as fast as she can, but in her wildest dreams, she could never keep up with Kiowa. He sprints far ahead of her and disappears into the woods. She can hear him leaping over fallen trees and maneuvering through the forest as though he has always been a wolf. She blinks and suddenly he is beside her. He pounces all around her.

"I circled back. I didn't want to leave you, but I had to see how fast I could go! We are as fast as the wind!" Kiowa shouts, circling around Anoki so many times it makes her anxious to follow him.

I could never be as fast as you. She lowers her ears and drops her tail.

"I could never move this fast on my horse!"

"Always promise me that you will wait for me, Kiowa!"

"Anoki, you are my soul. Wherever you go, there will I be also," he says with yellow eyes that both spook and excite her.

"You are my heart. Where you go, my body must follow."

Kiowa has so much energy that he leaps from thought to thought. "We are free from duty! Free from tribes! Free from everyone and everything!"

"We are free to be with each other," she says, lowering her nose and testing his meaning.

Kiowa feels an explosion of excitement swell in him. He draws a deep breath, tilts his head back, lowers his ears, and howls so loudly it silences the crickets, sends the owls inside their shelter, and alerts all living things that a new master owns the night. Masters that are man, woman, and wolf.

The deer sprints out of its hiding place and flees for its life. All animals smaller and within range clear out of his kingdom. For miles and miles they move, seeking shelter elsewhere.

Unable to resist, Anoki joins in.

"Thanks be to Onendah for his great magic!" Kiowa howls in a new voice, which echoes through the forest.

When he's finished singing praises, he presses his head to Anoki's and stares deep into her blue eyes, sinking into her ocean. He presses his paw to her heart. She does the same to him. They stare at each other like this as lovers often do when they build love with glances and gentle touches. The energy passes from one to the other, heightening new senses that excite, tickle, and charge.

"I know it isn't possible, but are we flying?"

"Anoki, can you not see? With our magic, anything is possible!"

 **Author's note:** With love's bright wings to carry us, anything is possible. Is it not? Well here's a little Christmas love from me to you. Get on over to Instagram. Search for harvestmoonofficial. Look for my book give away. I've signed it. I've poured my heart into this book. Now it's your job to go "catch what cannot be caught."


	56. Chapter 55

CHAPTER 55

The couple is trapped in their bliss, a dance ensues. The wolves circle each other and nuzzle noses.

Kiowa presses his lips to her face and tries to kiss her, but his lips don't work the same.

"I wish with all my heart that I could kiss you."

"I wish you could hold me. Your arms are strong and made me feel safe."

The wolves go from howling gratitude to whimpering loss.

"It seems in our desperate escape, we have sacrificed our first night as man and wife."

"What shall we do?" Anoki asks with her hungry eyes fixed on his.

Her seductive stance makes his hind legs go weak, forcing his bottom to the ground. His tail flops all around, picking up pine needles as it pats the earth. His ears flatten.

"A warrior so brave and so fierce must have other passions," she says, stepping toward him, the huntress, now hunting the hunter.

Kiowa tries to think of ways to show his love to his new wife, but the reality of the situation is that the exchange they made has robbed him of his most human element, mortal affection. Thoughts of him dragging his fingers through her hair are displaced as he examines his paws and realizes that his claws will most likely hurt her. His tongue goes in and out of his mouth as the sweet words he wishes to say to her won't form on this large, cumbersome animal tongue. He puckers his lips to kiss hers, but instead bumps his snouts with hers. Wrecking everything, he presses his head to her neck and wonders what it would have been like to touch her breasts. The agony of the loss makes him draw a long deep breath and release slowly. He whimpers.

Careful, you fool. This is your wedding night, and if you keep this up, she's going to name you Whimpers a Lot. The thought of having such a weak name reminds him of his youthful days when he was going to paint a deer on his shield.

"Wolf or woman, I am your wife, am I not?"

"I am thinking of a way to treat you as my wife."

"Have you not grown up near animals?"

"Yes," he says, clenching his teeth and closing his eyes. He releases one last remorseful whimper.

"Are they so different than we?"

Yes! he thinks to himself, reflecting on his loss.

He knows better than to list the human features he already misses.

The two stand close to each other and eventually maneuver into positions that allow them to consummate their marriage.

Back in the pine forest, the Indians stare at the glowing magic.

"We shouldn't," Paw says, looking at the wolf paw and the golden lance.

"Onendah isn't here to stop us." Makes Trouble smirks.

Before he can finish his words, Walpi lunges for the lance and touches the wolf paw and lance.

"I will not let you eat my sister," Walpi shouts. He immediately collapses and disappears beneath the glowing mist.

"Hopi? Hopi!" Makes Trouble shouts in a jealous rage. He watches Walpi's hand rise up above the mist like he's reaching for the sky. Wolf claws protrude out of his fingertips and his hand sprouts light brown fur, but the transformation doesn't appear as swift. A shadow stirs inside the mist. Two wolf eyes glow. A growl is heard. The vapors swirl. A man's frame with a wolf's head startles Makes Trouble.

"Well, if Hopi can change, then why not us?" Makes Trouble asks Paw. He does as Onendah showed them. The transformation does not go as smoothly. His hands grow long black claws and sprout golden fur, but the popping sound doesn't occur. His head twists and configures into a wolf's, but his heart lacks courage during the transformation and his body begins resisting the change.

Makes Trouble swipes at a tree and leaves a huge gash in the trunk.

Splinters spray against Paw's calm face. "Don't fight the magic, Makes Trouble."

Makes Trouble's fearful heart keeps his chest, arms, and legs human. He looks at Paw with a wolf's head and gurgles as his snout protrudes and his teeth elongate.

"AAAARRRRGGGHHRRRROOOO." Makes Trouble unleashes a terrifying evil howl. His back broadens and triples in size. His chest doubles in bulging mass. In an instant, he grows muscles so thick he doesn't resemble a man or a wolf, but something in between. He spreads his massive arms out and sees coiling golden wolf hair spread all over his body in patches instead of one smooth coat. He holds his hands up and examines his mutilated fingers, then presses them to his cheeks and shakes his head. His eyes flutter, then glow bright green. He looks down at his feet and sees black claws protruding out of his splitting moccasins. In a rage, he sprints into the forest, slashing tree trunks as he goes.

Paw grumbles and shakes his head. "He makes trouble, even with magic." Paw thinks it odd that Makes Trouble resists. Now he is stuck with the head and hands of a wolf but the body of a man. "How awful and dreadful. Not even a woman's love could look upon that monster's face."

With no one left to stop Paw, and since he has no one left to live for, he sighs and reaches down to pick up the lance. As soon as his fingertips make contact, he feels the sun's power. A sun-kissed glow transfers from the lance to his body.

"Ah-hoe, this feels amazing!" he says with a bright smile. His teeth glow white. "All that is left for me now is magic."

Not far away, Makes Trouble's growls and screams mix between beast and man.

"I'm not so sure I want to be a wolf." Paw reflects on Makes Trouble's transformation. He thinks of every animal he could be.

"Life as a happy river otter would be short. But I might find love again and hold hands with a lady otter. That would be nice."

"Grrrraaaawwwrrrr…" Makes Trouble screams into the night.

"Or maybe a powerful cougar? I've always wondered what it might be like to be a soaring eagle."

"Help me!" Makes Trouble speaks.

"Leave me to make up my own mind, Makes Trouble. You had your turn. Now it's mine. Let's see. I could be a bear." Paw taps his finger to his temple. Oh no. Anything but a bear. He reflects on Black Bear. "I could dangle from the web as a spider or I could crawl on my belly as a snake. Perhaps I could be a large fish and swim in the everywhere waters to find out things no one will ever know." Feelings of excitement surge, but with each thought, images of the predator who eats that animal follows.

"No, I suppose I cannot be any of those things. I could never be eaten. That is the worst of things." He turns the lance over and over and thinks, If only I had my cougar furs.

Not really sure why, he decides against being a mountain lion. Leaning down with true ambivalence, he touches the wolf hide. He immediately transforms into a husky black wolf with gray eyes. His brother's pant legs split off of him and fall to the damp forest ground.

He hears Makes Trouble's heavy breathing.

"Paw, help me! This is bad magic. Something is wrong," Makes Trouble shouts as he returns.

Paw stumbles out of the mist. The two stare at each other, blinking in disbelief.

"Can you understand me?" Makes Trouble snarls.

Paw tilts his head but doesn't answer.

Makes Trouble signs. Your black fur and gray eyes make me wonder how many wolves have watched me without my ever knowing.

"Your green eyes frighten me," Paw responds.

My eyes? What about yours? Makes Trouble signs his response.

"I think I would like to be an eagle like Onendah; do you think it is too late to reverse this spell?" Paw asks.

Makes Trouble stares at him blankly, his distorted jaws gaping.

"Do not eat me, monster. I did not cast the spell. You did it of your own free will."

Where's the lance? I have to change back. I would rather be a cricket than this…this… Makes Trouble thinks, scrambling for the golden lance, but its glow has faded. Oh no. It's too late. What have I done? His jaw pops and elongates his distorted mouth.

Walpi, now a hefty golden wolf with a black raccoon mask that connects to long black streaks down his back, appears out of nowhere. He snarls and leaps on Makes Trouble. In one swift motion, he manages to knock the hideous creature down. The brownish wolf bites hard on the monster's ear. "Run, Father of Kiowa. I will protect you against this ravenous man-wolf."

Makes Trouble screams from the dreadful pain.

"The love I have for my nephew has taken me to strange places…" Paw glances down at the ground, ignoring the scuffle. He sees his golden heat signal fade from the torn deerskin breeches that have acted as his brothers' legs carrying him all the way to here.

"This is the place where I stand on new legs?" He chuckles as he wobbles forward unsteadily on four feet. He leans down and detects the faint scent of his brother beneath the overwhelming sour scent of years of wear.

"Run, Black Wolf, before this monster eats you!" Walpi shouts. He clamps down on Makes Trouble's crooked ear.

"Please, please let go of my ear. You are hurting me terribly." Makes Trouble snarls, then swipes. The last change to his jaw has made it so that his words only come out in drooling growls and snarls. When Walpi doesn't let go, he signs, Help.

Looking up, Paw laughs when he sees Makes Trouble's sign. "That is not a monster, Hopi. That is Makes Trouble."

Walpi releases his bite. "I doubt that. Are you certain?"

Paw looks down at his long sleek black legs. "Onendah said new legs would carry me. I wonder if he knew they would be wolf legs," he says in a tone so low, only animal ears could hear.

Of course he knew! He has great power, Makes Trouble signs.

Paw sits down and lowers his ears. He sees his brother's image in his mind as clearly as if he were standing in front of him. He feels his eyes water and then laughs at the thought of a crying wolf.

"Do you hear that?" Walpi asks, leaping off of Makes Trouble's chest.

I do! Makes Trouble signs, feeling a strange sensation electrify him as his mane stands up on the back of his mortal neck.

"What is it?" Walpi asks Paw, but the black wolf is lost in his thoughts.

"It sounds like crying or…"

"Whimpering!"

"Give me peace, boys. I mourn and feel happy for my lost brother, all at the same time."

They both look at him and tilt their furry heads to the side.

"They are happy tears! That is all."

"Warriors cry?" Walpi asks.

Yet I still hear it, Makes Trouble signs, walking over to the fading mist. He looks down and sees Kiowa's fading prints, Anoki's, and a separate set of wolf prints, which glow much brighter than both of the others. The tracks move in the same direction.

Makes Trouble tilts his head up and sniffs the air.

Paw, I do not think we are the only wolves in the forest, he signs, sniffing the tracks and jogging down the trail. He shakes the earth with his massive frame.

Paw, do you hear me? Makes Trouble signs.

Paw remains lost in memories of his brother. "I did not, but I can see that you will not allow me a single moment of reverence."

"These tracks follow Kiowa's and Anoki's trail," Walpi says.

"Kill," they hear a voice say.


	57. Chapter 56

CHAPTER 56

Paw stands up, turns around, and clumsily falls over. He can't seem to coordinate his legs. "Don't just stand there; follow them!" he orders the monstrous man-wolf.

Makes Trouble runs off and scans the brush. His hearing is superior to the other wolves and catches the voice saying, "Kill you! I hate you!" But he can't understand who would be this far from the tribe and why they would want to do harm. He grows angry and lashes out in a roar that sends a colony of bats soaring.

"Do you hear that high-pitched noise?" Walpi asks, sprinting toward Makes Trouble. "I can hear the bats chirping like they are in my ears." He runs with his sidekick.

I hear a different song and I recognize it. Makes Trouble motions with terrifying claws and human-like hands

"What song is that?"

Makes Trouble holds out two long gnarled fingers and draws them behind his towering pointed wolf ears. Kiowa. He holds his other gruesome hand up and pats his mouth, signing, War song.

The two stop and look at each other. With a nod, they tear off down the trail, catching glimpses of two yellow eyes and a white fanged grin vanishing among the shadows.

"Whoever you are, you cannot run and hide. We track you as you track them," Walpi shouts.

The uncanny duo follows the trail out into an open prairie.

"Look there!" Walpi says, spotting a red wolf in full sprint.

Makes Trouble growls and races after the beast.

Walpi easily forgets his peaceful upbringing and caves to his new carnal instinct. He leads the chase since Makes Trouble can run only on two immense, lumbering legs. Their thudding paws shake the moist grass.

Walpi closes the distance quickly.

"You have nowhere to run or hide!" Makes Trouble shouts to himself, only a hundred feet away.

As the red wolf scales a hill, Walpi presses the charge. He uses his newfound muscles and seemingly inexhaustible energy to close on this intruder. Instead of sending her tumbling as he had Makes Trouble, he stops short, awkwardly finding himself in the middle of his sister's honeymoon. The red wolf is moving fast toward her and Kiowa, so he presses on. Yet his hesitation has cost him.

Anoki sees fiery red eyes leap for her. The impact pushes her and Kiowa over.

Completely surprised, Kiowa scrambles to his feet in time to see a red wolf thrashing its ivory fangs. He watches its reddish-gray snout snap down on her neck and devilishly try to tear at her life-supporting veins.

He locks his yellow eyes with the furious red-eyed beast.

"RELEASE HER!"

Anoki cries out. He swiftly springs into action. His attention is momentarily diverted by a flash of gold. A large golden-brown wolf is racing toward them, and it appears to him that a wolf pack is closing in.

Is our bud of love stomped out before our vows are fulfilled? he wonders.

White and red fur fills the air and float around the action. Sharp claws tear up the earth as the two fight for their lives.

Adrenaline explodes a fire in Kiowa's heart and propels him to attack. He catches the red wolf by her side and bites so hard she has no choice but to release.

With a flip of his neck and a thrust of his legs, Kiowa hurls the red wolf a good distance past the nearing gold wolf.

The red wolf rolls around in the dust, then leaps to its feet and resumes its feral attack. Again it pursues Anoki and finds the thunderous growls of the impressive gray wolf protecting his mate.

Anoki lowers her head and growls, standing behind Kiowa, whose incredible size is easily double both female wolves. His long slate mane bristles. His black lips curl back. His curved fangs are immense, and he wields them as an Indian wields a tomahawk.

He gets as low as he can and prepares to disembowel his red enemy. For a brief moment, he wonders how hard he will have to thrash in order to spill its guts.

But something halts the attack.

"Enough, Kida!" Paw shouts, just now breaching the hill.

Her red eyes turn from Kiowa to Paw. "It is enough when I say it is enough!"

"What is this?" Kiowa asks, keeping his yellow glowing eyes on the pacing red wolf. He recognizes his uncle's voice, but he doesn't recognize the pack of wolves he sees around him. His instincts take control. He lowers his head and glares at each one, readying for the next fight.

Instinctively, the closest wolves snarl back, even though they don't intend to.

Paw wobbles down the hill. "Your fight is not with us. It is not even with the red wolf."

Seeing her chance, Kida, the red wolf, lunges for Anoki.

Her attack initiates a fierce defense. Like a primed bullet, Kiowa's legs explode and shoot his two hundred pounds of imposing muscle. In seconds he is upon her. The impact of his large frame knocks Kida to the ground. He circles her and strikes. She tries to scramble to her feet but can't. She can't even catch her breath.

With his powerful gaping jaws nearing her stomach, she sees that she has no choice. She rolls over and submits. Although most wolves would cease at submission, this wolf persists. His agonizing mauling bites sap her energy. She feels her life slipping from her body and can't summon the strength to fight back. When he clenches down on her hundred-and-twenty-pound body, he thrashes her so viciously, she looks like a rag in his terrible mouth.

A gurgling growl chokes in his throat as he sees a monster that's part man, part wolf running toward him. His ears flatten.

Releasing Kida's limp body, he charges Makes Trouble and moves the hundred-and-eighty-pound man beast with ease. A fierce fight ensues. Makes Trouble roars more like a lion than a wolf. He swipes with his powerful hands, but proves too slow. Neither sounds like a man now, only beast.

Both are precise with their agonizing bites, and both use their claws on each other's snouts and eyes, but Kiowa proves the quickest and strongest. He pushes Makes Trouble back several feet and tears up flesh with each bite. His long snout overcomes his distorted friend by landing so many bites in so many places, it is as though Makes Trouble is in a fight with a pack of wolves instead of just one. An ocean of pain overwhelms the whimpering reddish-brown monster, who lowers his ears and bows his head.

Walpi, the gold wolf, comes toward him. "It is us, Kiowa," Walpi tries to explain, but when Kiowa turns on him, his face has not even an ounce of recognition. It is as though Kiowa the man is gone and now a terrible wolf with an insane temper has been unleashed. His eyes are like glass, with a pure, evil intent. No humanity lurks in those halos, only the remains of a ruthless killer, forged in the fires of survival for thousands of years.

Kiowa tilts his bloodstained snout and snarls. Saliva and blood drip down his jaw. He charges Walpi with his beastly muscles flexed to fight. Without even so much as an ounce of fight, the gold wolf instinctively rolls over and submits. His submission only lightens Kiowa's bites but does not stop them.

"Ah! Ah! Anoki, help me!" Walpi cries out.

Anoki, the powder-white she-wolf, calmly rests on her back haunches and watches the fighting. She smiles. It pleases her tremendously that Kiowa is able to subdue so many intruders on this, her wedding night.

"ENOUGH!" Paw shouts.

"Yes, enough…" Walpi whimpers, covering his face with his burning paws.

Kiowa steps over Walpi like the hundred-and-seventy-pound wolf is sand.

"It is enough when I say it is enough!" are the first words Kiowa speaks. He charges Paw, and a brutal fight ensues that does not end quickly. They both push each other back and forth, slashing with their fangs and tearing with their claws. The battle for dominance has begun.

When a victor is not so quickly established, Kiowa nips here and there, but the black wolf bares his fangs, which are equally brutal, though Kiowa's are longer and he wields them better. Besides, youth is on his side.

Between growls and high-pitched whimpering cries, fur and patches of flesh are torn from each wolf's hide, escalating the battle to a life-and-death fight. Paw manages to bite down so hard on Kiowa's back leg that Kiowa believes it may be soon ripped off.

With a deep rallying cry, Kiowa turns on the black wolf. He bites his uncle on top of his head, quickly readjusting his grip until he has half of the black wolf's face in his deadly jaws. With lethal crushing pressure, the two lock up in a fight it seems neither can win. Finally, Kiowa lunges forward, causing Paw's weaker back legs to fold, and he falls over.

Now in the superior position, Kiowa clamps down on his uncle's neck so tight he can feel him struggling for air. With what little effort he has left, Paw bites back, but his power is fading. The two wolves tug at each other, neither willing to give. Eventually Paw's jaw spasms to the point he can no longer hold his grip. He releases his bite. Before he passes out, he's forced onto his back.

Had Paw mastered the use of his new legs, he might have beaten Kiowa and he could have been the pack's leader. As it is, Kiowa subdued every wolf and has plenty of fight left to take on another. Oh yes, he was power. He was fear. He was death!


	58. Chapter 57

CHAPTER 57

"Kiowa, can you not see who that wolf is?" Anoki asks.

Somewhere in that ravage gray beast, Kiowa was also Indian, and when his love spoke, he knew the place. It was his heart.

"That is your uncle. Release him."

Kiowa blinks several times, then opens his mouth. His whole body is on fire from where the wolves bit and clawed him.

"Anoki, it is I, your brother, Walpi," the gold wolf says, keeping a safe distance from her and Kiowa.

"I know who you are. I assume that monster is Makes Trouble. But who is this red wolf? Is this a real wolf, or a skinwalker like us?"

"What happened?" Kiowa asks, as though he has been somewhere else and has just returned.

The other wolves lower their heads and submit, except for Paw. He pants and licks his wounds. Though he won't admit it, his head aches so bad he wonders if his nephew did not fracture his skull.

"Have your senses become so much like the wolf that none of you is man?" Paw asks, wondering why his nephew has treated him so harshly.

Kiowa shakes from his snout to his big bushy tail.

"I do not know. I was here with Anoki. Now I'm here with all of you. Uncle, you are one of us!" the mighty gray wolf says, panting.

Paw tilts his head in total confusion.

"Makes Trouble? Walpi? Onendah changed you as well?"

The two playfully pounce around. Makes Trouble looks ridiculous.

You didn't think we would leave you alone in the dangerous wild, did you? he signs.

Kiowa glances at the red wolf. "Who is this?"

All eyes turn to the limp red wolf.

She is alive. I can hear her heartbeat, Makes Trouble signs.

The wolves circle Kida, growling.

As she comes to, she slowly sits up. Her cracked ribs and sore neck keep her from putting up a fight.

"Kill me quickly!" she says, lowering her head.

Anoki sits beside Kiowa. The early-morning light begins to lighten up the dramatic scene.

"A woman knows the actions of her own. You are the one who loves Kiowa?"

"KIDA!" Kiowa growls, baring his fangs.

With great effort, Kida rises to her feet, taking her most proud stance. "It is I! I am not ashamed of who I am, though now, what I am." She lifts her paw and licks it, "Abandoning our people will not save lives. Our people are excellent trackers. Come, Kiowa. Let us change back to our human forms so we can marry and be one with our people and be together"—she glares at Anoki—"and be happy."

"I am one with my people and I am more happy than I have ever been in all my life."

"The Hopi girl is not our people, and you are happy roaming the plains as a man. As nature intended you. You kill buffalo and protect our people. This is how we live. This is how we have always lived. This is just how things are!"

"Anoki is not people anymore, and neither are we. We are wolves now," Paw says, pointing out an obvious fact that Kida has overlooked.

"It doesn't have to be this way, Kiowa. But if you will not change back, I will go and tell the tribe what you have become. If you think they were angry before, wait until they see you now."

"Do the Kiowa speak wolf? Or do they kill wolves?" Anoki asks.

"Arrggghhh! They will speak to me when I change back," Kida lashes out.

Paw looks up at the rising sun. "Onendah said they would not be able to change until the next harvest moon. This means we cannot change either."

"Not allowed to shape-shift back? But I thought his power would allow us to come and go as we pleased." Kida begins to cry, which sounds like pathetic whimpers.

"Were any of you forced to change? Or have you all chosen this path?" Kiowa asks.

Each wolf reflects on their decision.

"I was the first to choose this!" Walpi proudly proclaims.

I chose the same, Makes Trouble confesses with signs.

"I wasn't sure what I wanted, and I could have been anything. No matter what I would have been, my heart is with my would-be son. Where he goes, I will follow," Paw answers.

"I only transformed into a wolf because I could not think of what kills a wolf, or I would have chosen that," Kida hisses.

"It seems one thing unites us all," Anoki concludes.

"What is that, Hopi girl?" Kida vehemently demands.

Anoki scoots toward Kiowa and rests her paw so it touches his. "Love!"

Kida snarls and skulks away, like Anoki is twisting a knife in her already-bleeding wounds.

"Think of it. I love Kiowa and he loves me. So we chose this. Makes Trouble loves Kiowa like a brother, so here he is. Paw, you could have been anything, but I can see you love your nephew. Walpi, do you love me?"

Walpi nods.

"Even Kida, twisted as her love may be, came to be a wolf through love for Kiowa."

If looks could kill, Kida's face would have killed Anoki. But as they are as harmless as words and since Kiowa already forced her into submission, all she can do is show her discontent by sticking her tongue out and making horrible angry faces.

"Your words are true, Hopi, but what do they mean?" Paw asks.

"Can't you see? We have everything a tribe would need. We have love, warriors, women, and now we have numbers."

"Uhm…Anoki, I wanted to be a lone wolf with just you," Kiowa says, hoping to resume his honeymoon.

"You are so much like your father." Paw chuckles, shaking his head and thinking of the irony in Kiowa's father's name, Lone Wolf.

"I propose this: Accept our love. We would be with a tribe if they would have allowed it. But since they will not, we can have our own tribe."

 **A word:** Isn't Anoki grand? So forgiving. Such a big heart.


	59. Chapter 58

CHAPTER 58

Kida's lips curl in disgust.

"We have all lost our tribes. But it's okay, because those places can be filled." Anoki smiles and prances around as she thinks of all the children she will have under the protection of her new tribe.

"You are not as sneaky as you think. I know what you are thinking, Hopi girl," Kida declares, grimacing.

Anoki trots over to Kiowa and drags her tail under his chin.

"Yes, indeed. We must organize a pack. This will make us stronger," Paw says.

Yes, a pack. Makes Trouble signs his agreement.

"We cannot skinwalk back into our true human form as we please?" Kida asks a second time.

"No, jealous one. We are stuck this way until next fall," Walpi growls.

"Will I be stuck like this"—Makes Trouble waves his hand over his face and presents his body—"until the harvest moon?" He makes a sour face.

Paw nods.

Makes Trouble grunts out a strangled roar.

"Kiowa is the best warrior among us. He will lead us well," Anoki recommends proudly.

"The elders used to say that the strength of the wolf is the pack, and the strength of the pack is the wolf," Paw says, thinking back to the bonfire stories that once mesmerized him.

Kida slowly turns and begins to walk away.

"Where are you going, Kida?" Kiowa shouts.

She turns around and lowers her head. "I have offended you both and I don't deserve to be a part of your pack. I will make my own way until the moon turns me back to my true form. Then I will go back home."

"And then what?" Kiowa probes her.

"Tell our secret?" Paw asks.

"Of course. The tribe will want to know." She makes eye contact defiantly.

"They will kill all of us, and Onendah, if you do that," Paw tells Kiowa.

"Then kill me now and be done with me! I am already dead inside. Why not kill the flesh?" She turns and bristles up her mane.

No one can kill my sister, Makes Trouble signs. You all have someone. She is all I have.

Anoki moves in front of the men. "Kida, I forgive you."

"I do not ask for your forgiveness!" Kida roars, growling and moving closer to her.

"Nonetheless, you have it. Our numbers are few. The pack will need women to grow our numbers, and none of these fools was smart enough to bring a woman with them. So that leaves you and me."

Kida glances over at the men. "If any of them had a woman, what woman in her right mind would follow them to this life?"

"It can be no other way, Kida. Life is better than death."

Kida stops snarling.

They all look at each other for consensus.

Walpi is the first to nod his assent and, though she isn't certain, Kida thinks he winked at her.

"Fine, till the next harvest moon, then," Kida relents, seeing the wisdom in her enemies' words. Besides, her aching body won't allow her to fight any longer.

"Let this be our order, then, and let each of you show it by a vote."

One by one, the wolves circle around Kiowa.

"Put your paws together on top of mine and repeat after me."

They obey him.

Makes Trouble is the last to rest his enormous foot on top of their paws, setting it down as gently as he can.

"This is our only law. The strength of the wolf is the pack. And the strength of the pack is the wolf."

As a group, they take their oath.

"Now let us go from this place, for we must learn how to hunt with our mouths and run with four legs," Kiowa says, taking the lead.

Paw sighs. "I am going to starve, as I am clumsy with all of these legs." He hobbles away, feeling a sobering agony from his wounds. An agony all the wolves share, except Anoki.

John picks his nose and goes to eat it, but Charlie's disgusted expression halts him. He looks up like nothing is happening and wipes his booger on the bottom of his shoe.

Charlie gags, then takes a moment to regain his composure.

"As I've said, the Indians survived on the buffalo. So when they became wolves, they still had to rely on the buffalo for survival. But now they had to learn how to hunt as wolves."

"Wait. Wouldn't Kida still be in love with Kiowa? How can they live together?" Zack asks.

"You're thinking about this all wrong. See, the Indians saw all things as necessity. Kida did everything in her power to win Kiowa over and she failed. Now her obligation was to fill a role in the tribe."

"What happens if she doesn't?" John asks.

"You don't wanna be an Indian without an occupation. That would mean you're expendable," Charlie answers.

"So even if she did love him, she had a job to do?" Zack inquires.

"It's not a job; it's her obligation. And if she fell short on a hunt and cost the tribe food, well, then, you better believe she was going to face some punishment."

"Are you saying she didn't really love Kiowa?" Kevin asks.

"Whether she did or didn't, Kiowa chose Anoki. See, boys, it's like this: One day you will all choose a bride, and it doesn't matter if anyone else has feelings for you. All that matters is that you choose, and life goes on."

"So the Indian wolves valued occupation more than love?" John nods, answering his own question.

"That might be true for Kida. Can we get back to the story?" Charlie asks.

Out on a vast open prairie, the wolves crouch on a high mountain. Not a single cloud hovers in the sea-blue sky, while emerald grass stretches out like an ocean.

"Makes Trouble, I am afraid," Walpi whispers to the monster who has both taught him the Kiowa signs and become his mentor.

Makes Trouble draws a deep, growling breath. His auburn, black-flecked patches of fur add to his hideous nature. He looks at Walpi, crosses his legs, and patiently signs, Don't be. The buffalo that lead the pack are not the buffalo that you will attack. Wolves and Indians hunt the same. Kill the old. Run the herd till it tires, then pick off the weak or young. Eat, grow stronger, live to hunt another day.

"How can you tell the weak from the old?"

That is sometimes hard. Older buffalo have gray hairs on their chests and back. But both will separate from the herd, and that is always their biggest mistake.

"Then what?"

Then, when the herd circles around the young, the hunter among us with the greatest courage and the strongest magic will attack the largest buffalo.

"Why do we attack the largest buffalo when we can sustain ourselves off the weak and old?"

Because it is a great honor to kill the courageous ones.

"Can't we get hurt?"

Yes, but they will, too.

"I don't want to get hurt."

None of us do. That's why we use magic.

"But your magic didn't work on you. And besides, I don't have any magic."

Well, you'd better borrow some or you are going to get hurt, Hopi. I swear, all these questions end in one of two ways: Run and kill or run and die.

"One more question."

Makes Trouble growls with a dull, impatient rumble. Yes?

"I am afraid of more than the hunt."

What else scares you besides being mauled by buffalo hooves or stabbed by their horns?

Kida.

Makes Trouble looks at his sister and tilts his gory head to the side in confusion. Why Kida? he signs.

"She keeps staring at me," Walpi signs back with trembling paws.


	60. Chapter 59

CHAPTER 59

Makes Trouble covers his snout with his mutated hand in embarrassment.

Why do you stare at Walpi, Kida? he signs emphatically.

"I do not know." She glances away, thinking on it.

"Do you have to stare at all times?" Walpi asks.

"Yes!"

Makes Trouble laughs. He gets up and walks away, joining Paw and Kiowa.

"Do not leave me by myself, Makes Trouble. She attacked my sister. She will attack me," Walpi hisses through clenched teeth.

Makes Trouble glances at Kida. Yes, but I do not think she is going to attack you with her teeth.

Kida licks her lips.

Paw glances back at her and watches her crawl closer to Walpi.

"A woman's heart is like a murky creek. First she is blinded by soot, but when the dust settles, things become clear," Kida says, lowering her head and looking up at Walpi with wanton eyes. She presses her soft red fur against his side, then turns to look at him and see if it's okay.

"If you will stop staring at me, you can sit beside me," he says, scooting his hind legs away.

She looks away, then back at him.

Then away.

Then back.

Kiowa, Makes Trouble, and Paw laugh as they watch the awkwardness unfold.

"You were wise to have us hunt small game through the fall before we moved on to the herd. My legs have adjusted well and my senses are keen," Paw compliments his leader.

"I guess we are all rabbits…" Kiowa answers.

Until we are not! Makes Trouble proudly protests.

Kiowa looks at Paw and says, "The pack is only as strong as its slowest wolf."

"Slowest?" Paw questions.

What do you mean? Makes Trouble signs to Kiowa, offended.

"You are not fast enough to keep up with us, and you will only run the herd off."

But if I don't hunt, then I won't get to eat, Makes Trouble signs.

"Then you will have to eat rabbits until you figure out how to be like us."

I hate rabbits! I am so sick of eating them, and I am hungrier than I've ever been, Makes Trouble signs.

Paw turns his attention back to Kiowa. "I propose we chase the herds to the water and weaken the younglings and calves. Keep Anoki and Kida on opposite flanks to keep the herd moving, while the four of us kill the slowest. Attack any foolish enough to turn around, and leave this hideous monster here so he doesn't get hurt."

Makes Trouble bristles and storms off.

"Let us go," Kiowa says.

The wolves slither down the hill, crouching as low as they can. When they reach the thigh-high sagebrush, they completely disappear in the thick gray brush. In open spaces, they move with such stealth, the grazing buffalo fail to see their colorful coats streak across the open green places.

A very large, older male draws a crowd as he samples grass. Their tight cluster eventually spreads out.

"This grass is fresh and crisp. Move the herd closer to the spring. We can eat here and drink from the cool spring."

The herd moves closer to a shallow stream that widens in some spots and narrows in others.

"I could eat here all day, Long Horns." Blossom, his mate chews and nods.

She looks up and scans the sparkling stream and notices a cluster of cottonwood trees in a depression. As her lower jaw shifts back and forth, grinding grass, she notices that the songbirds in the trees aren't singing their usual melodies.

"Well, good morning to you, little birds," Blossom says with a snort. She shakes her long, dusty, brown-matted hide.

She looks around and notices that rabbits and gophers that usually poke their heads up curiously are scattering for their holes.

"You have nothing to fear from us. Come out, friends," Blossom encourages them.

"Do you hear that?" Long Horns asks Blossom.

"I don't hear anything."

"Not even the birds chirping?"

The two glance at each other, then at Clover, who tears up a patch of grass and shakes the clumped dirt from the roots.

"The roots are really good too. I like to chew them with the tops, because it adds an earthiness that tastes the best."

Blossom and Long Horns look out on the distant horizon but fail to see the wolf pack.

"I don't see any Indians," Long Horns says, straining his eyes to see. "'Course, you don't always. They're usually pretty sneaky."

"I hate the Indians! I can't wait for the Great White Buffalo to come from the sun and lead us all back to the safe lands," Blossom says, admiring Long Horns's lengthy beard.

"You don't believe that old ghost story, do you?" Clover asks around a mouthful of food.

"I have to, for the children. We are hunted by bears, cougars, bitten by deadly snakes, and slaughtered by Indians. The Great White Buffalo is the only hope our herd has."

"Buffalo say they have spoken to him. They say he's going to lead us all into a big cave, where he will raise and lower the sun for us."

"I heard we won't have to wander because the grass will grow right beneath our hooves as we eat it."

"Could you imagine that?"

The two move over to the taller grass, testing it first with their horns to spook the rattlesnakes.

"Lemon just doesn't understand how good the tall grass is. Let's keep it to ourselves and not tell the old cow." Clover chuckles with a wink.

With hardly a care in the world, Long Horns tears a large chunk of grass from the ground and chews it.

He leans back down, wraps his pink tongue around lime-green stalks, and pulls them into his mouth. When he looks up, he sees something that makes him relax his grasp and snort. Two yellow eyes surrounded by a white-and-black wolf mask keep him frozen in place.

Kiowa lunges for the bull, snatching down on his snout. He uses his mouth to cover Long Horn's nose to cut off his air supply.


	61. Chapter 60

CHAPTER 60

"Rrruuunnn!" Blossom snorts and runs off with a grunt. Clover is quick to follow.

One by one the wolves make their appearance. They leap out of the grass and bite at Long Horns's legs. Kida and Paw successfully seize both of Long Horns's hind legs and work as anchors to keep him from charging Kiowa.

Kida swiftly maneuvers around the big bull's side and latches on to a thick chunk of matted fur. Dropping down to her haunches, she brutally tugs and tugs, until Long Horns loses his balance and falls over.

Anoki leaps on top of the bison and uses her weight to help pin him. She nips at him and makes every effort to contribute. But being an inexperienced hunter, she annoys him more than hurts him. She looks up at her brother and shouts, "Do something!"

"Walpi, Anoki, charge the herd!" Kida orders the two ineffective wolves.

Walpi and Anoki look at each other with mutual baffled expressions.

"Charge them where?"

Makes Trouble shows them inadvertently by running after the beasts, two-legged. He stretches out his arms and screams, "MEAT! I NEED MEAT!" His efforts cue Walpi and Anoki. They are quick to take advantage of the gap between the monster and the herd.

Paw's and Kiowa's primal snarls terrify Long Horns. He tries to fight with powerful bucking motions, but it's pointless. His blood is already soaking the grass. Paw has begun pulling his entrails out of his abdomen.

Kiowa releases his bite and resets his powerful jaws around the groaning bull's neck. Sifting through Long Horn's thick mane for a pounding pulse, he maneuvers until he feels a beat rattle against his fangs. With one severe chomp, he punctures, twists, then pulls till he snaps the carotid artery.

The old bull releases his last breath. His tongue dangles out the side of his mouth and his big brown eyes roll up into the top of his head.

Blood stains the warriors' snouts. It mixes with their saliva and oozes down their chins.

"The honor is yours, Kiowa!" Paw commends his nephew. "You killed the biggest bull in their tribe!"

"Hurry. We must take as many as we can get," Kida shouts, already sprinting after the stampeding herd.

Kiowa leaps over the carcass and speeds past her. His paws thud as they hit the earth nearly as hard as the buffalos'. Dirt and grass kick up behind him. The powerful wolf moves with a flash. His silvery coat streaks across the green grass and is quickly ahead of his pack. Now he leads a lone attack on the frightened herd.

Blossom and Clover reunite with the herd's leader, Raging Bull.

"Raging Bull, help! Wolves attacked Long Horns."

"Impossible! Wolves wouldn't dare attack our herd in broad daylight."

"It's true! Come see for yourself."

Raging Bull follows the cows, where he comes face-to-face with Kiowa. True to his name, he lowers his head and aggressively charges the wolf leader in a heated rage. Kiowa easily darts to the side, dodging the lethal horns.

As his pack draws near, he orders them to continue the chase. The wolves obey in a flash of red, white, gold, and russet. They streak past him and continue their pursuit.

"Ha! Ha! You have not brought a large enough pack!" Raging Bull shouts, spinning his towering body abruptly.

"I'm going to stay with the herd, Clover," Blossom shouts, trotting after the buffalos' dust trail.

"What do wolves want with our herd? Shouldn't you be chasing elk and deer?"

Kiowa calmly sits down a few feet in front of his prey. "We are not wolves. We are Indians."

"You don't look like Indians. You look like wolves."

"We are skinwalkers."

"What is your name, skinwalker?"

"Kiowa, son of Lone Wolf."

"You cannot live off our herd as you once did, Kiowa. For we were once a proud many, but we are now becoming few."

"Buffalo have always been many. You are just a small herd. We will not make you much smaller."

"When have you ever seen a herd so small? I am telling you, skinwalker, we are being hunted daily by men with horses and powerful thunder sticks. I know not what we have done to offend the Sun God, but he must be angry with us to curse us this way."

Kiowa yawns, showing his pink-stained teeth.

Raging Bull glances at the sun. "I am afraid that one day there will be no more herds."

"What do your problems have to do with my tribe? As a man or a wolf, I must put meat in their mouths. It is my duty as a man. I care only that I have enough to eat. Do you plead to the grass when you eat it?"

"You are a fool. You will hunt us until we are no more, and then what will you eat?" Raging Bull shouts as he lowers his horns and presses an attack.

Kiowa leads Raging Bull, teasing him with his tail. He stays close enough to entice but far enough not to be caught. With great cunning, Kiowa leads Raging Bull to the stream bed.

When the bull tires, he hobbles down the incline into the stream and rolls around to cool off. Meanwhile the wolf remains atop of the embankment, darting to and fro energetically, to exhibit he is still fresh for a fight.

"I am not the foolish one. Without the head buffalo, the herd will run in circles and die!"

Raging Bull scampers to his hooves. He thrusts and hustles his way up the bank. Across the stream he can see his family huddled together and moving in large circles. The proud bull knows that the Indian-wolf is right. Without a leader, they will not know which direction to run, and the weak will wander to their death.

"I believe that you are Indian. You hunt as Indians, dividing us this way and that."

Kiowa turns the tables. Instead of playfully pouncing, he suddenly crouches low and bares his teeth. He releases low menacing growls, readied for a fight.

"One day the Sun God will release the Great White Buffalo. He has come before. He will come again."

Kiowa lunges and snaps at Raging Bull to get him moving. "Our magic is from the same god. He has granted us power to skinwalk. I have seen your Great White Buffalo, but he will never take our powers! Who do you think has brought me here?"

Raging Bull turns about and tries with every effort to connect his horns with Kiowa, but the wolf is too clever and too fast.

"Did you see him leading the buffalo to the great cave?" Raging Bull asks with a thrust.

"I did not see where he led the herd. But it does not matter. I will find this cave, and my pack will feast for an eternity!" Kiowa answers, snapping his savage jaws at the bull leader.

The two go back and forth, up and down the stream. Kiowa shows how he's mastered the terrain. He uses words to fan the flames of fury, then engages Raging Bull, to keep him angry and exhausted.

The pursuit takes some time, but the game comes to a regretful end for the buffalo herd.

Across the plains the herd is at the complete mercy of the wolves.


	62. Chapter 61

CHAPTER 61

Without their esteemed leader, Raging Bull, the herd clusters together and mills around in a disorganized circle. Dust clouds form all around their meandering traffic. It serves as cloud cover and allows the wolves to mix in and strike where they please.

"Circle back for Raging Bull," Thunderfoot shouts at the confused herd.

"Show us the way and we will follow!" a young bull answers.

Thunderfoot strains to see through the dust, but the choking air is incredibly thick, and he cannot see which way to go.

Kida disappears into the dust cloud created by the terrified buffalo.

As the young tire and separate from their mothers, the Indians are there to catch them. Kida emerges from the cloud with a wailing yearling clenched in her jaws. Makes Trouble runs up and opens his arms.

She drops the calf. "Who is faster than the wind now, ugly brother?" She grimaces and turns away. Within moments, she has another calf on its side.

Makes Trouble wants to sign an insult back, but instead, he scoops the calf up and turns to run off with it.

This is much easier than hunting with bows and arrows, Makes Trouble thinks as Paw sprints past him. He snarls at the black wolf, who returns the insult with a clacking snap.

"I will do as you tell me!" Walpi shouts to Kida, approaching the herd.

His words please her. She smiles and bares her white fangs. Her cinnamon fur glows brilliantly in the sun's setting light and makes her seem more like a fox than a wolf.

"Don't wait to be told, Hopi. Act for yourself!"

Walpi joins in the fight by biting a young buffalo on the same side as Kida.

"No, Hopi…Go for the throat. I will steady him."

Walpi hesitates. "What if I get hit by its horns?"

"He doesn't have horns. He is a child. If you want to stop being treated as Hopi, you must stop acting as Hopi! Become a wolf! Kill!"

Walpi bites down on the panicked calf's neck. He feels its pulse pound against his teeth and immediately releases.

"I'm sorry, Buffalo. I once was Hopi and grew corn. But I cannot grow corn anymore, so I must do as Kida says."

He bites down in the same place and resumes his grip.

"I prefer you as Hopi," the buffalo calf gurgles.

Walpi lacks confidence and has to reset his bite several times, causing the game a great deal of pain.

"You don't have to torture it unnecessarily, Walpi, like your beautiful fur tortures my eyes."

For the first time Walpi thinks he understands why Kida stares at him. She wants to kill me and wear my fur as they wear scalps on their belts, He shakes his head back and forth as he saw Kiowa do, until the buffalo eventually submits and dies. When he doesn't feel a pulse, he slowly releases. Sadness swells inside. He puts on a brave face and looks at Kida with his blood-soaked snout and paws.

"There, now I have given you reason to stare all you like!" he pants, probing to see if Kida stares at him for a different reason than the one that haunts him.

Kida smiles at him. She turns and scans the herd until she spots the white wolf going after a fatigued yearling. "Let us see what Anoki, the Hopi princess, can do."

Anoki snaps at the buffalo's hindquarters, but with no real success.

"Slow down, Buffalo!" she shouts.

"No. You're going to eat me!"

"Yes, but this is the natural way."

The calf picks up its pace and shouts, "Mama!"

Kiowa flanks the calf and charges it so quickly that both he and the buffalo collide in a bone-rattling explosion. A cloud of dust explodes around the two. Its neck bends at on oblique angle, and it falls dead.

Anoki stares at him with sparkling topaz eyes. "You are more powerful than I imagined!"

Kiowa smiles and pushes his broad chest out. "Follow me!"

Anoki capers behind him with a devilish grin.

Off in the distance, Kida sighs. She puts her head down and begins to whimper.

Paw slowly walks up beside her and lies down. He pants for a moment and then licks his blood-soaked lips.

"Kida, you must let go of your pain. Kiowa never loved you. His heart is with the white wolf. Surely your eyes can see this."

Tears well up in her eyes. "My heart aches. Will I ever love another as much as I loved him?"

Paw puts his arm around her. "In time I think you will."

W.H. stands on concrete steps in front of the Université de Saint-Boniface. It's Winnipeg's first Western university and was founded in 1818. The three-story rectangular building, including attic, has a gabled roof and a Colonial bell tower styled after a Roman gazebo. The decorative roof on the bell tower is of such a design and size that in comparison to the rest of the building, it makes the building seem like it's been crowned.

W.H. takes in every architectural detail first, then steps back and sees the picture in its entirety. Oak clapboard, painted white, gives the lines a symmetry that makes the building seam neat and orderly. Male students entering the front doors in their suits and ties prove that the standard of tidiness is upheld.

W.H. gazes at his reflection in the tall, lead-glass Colonial windows. He chuckles at his distorted image as he sways back and forth.

They sure did a good job matching the front turret to the bell tower, he thinks as he scans the high and low arches.

"I suppose I'm late for class," he mumbles as the bell rings. He joins the crowd of young men shuffling through the halls and into their classes. Biting his bottom lip, he shoves his hands in his brown suit pockets and tucks his belt-strapped books under his arm.

He reaches for the classroom door and opens it. With one foot out, he's about to join the last of the fluttering students, but he hesitates. He retracts his step and puts his hand on the yellow maple wainscoting, feeling the smooth surface. He isn't sure why, but his hand refuses to let go of the classroom door handle and his lead feet seem to be in communication, as they will not allow him to take one step in. The bell seems to chime, W.H., you're late. Late to your first day of winter semester.

He closes his eyes and imagines being on the other side of the door. He can hear it slam shut. In those stuffy classrooms, he's forced to learn algebra, geometry, finance, and Latin. The slamming door triggers an avalanche of dissatisfaction he's felt in class his entire freshman year. If I join them, I'm never going to be anything but a man in a suit, he cautions himself, pressing his hand to his bottom lip.

With a deep grumble, he adjusts his round, gold-framed glasses and looks up at the beautiful, artistic building.

"That's my problem. I'm too young to burden myself with all this art."

He drops his books in front of the door. With a swift grip, he swings around and marches down the wood-trimmed hallway, turning to the right toward the dean's office.

With rebellious determination in his eyes, he twists a brass door, swings it open, and boldly storms into the office. He passes a gold-etched placard with the name DR. BENNETT, PHD, HEADMASTER.

"How may I help you?" a middle-aged secretary with bright red hair and green eyes asks the fiery youth.

"I need to speak with the dean."

"Do you have an appointment?"

W.H. takes a step back, gets a wild look in his eyes, and says, "The art of the wild tells me I go where I want when I want! Is he in there or ain't he?"

Startled by his boisterous, unsettling behavior, the secretary takes his glasses off, showcasing a firmness he had not expected.

"Yes, but do you have an appointment?"

A red-brown mahogany door opens behind him.

"Come in." An older, gray-haired gentleman in a fine black 1800s-standard suit accepts the unsolicited appointment.

W.H. storms past the fussy secretary.

"He needs an appointment."

"This one is different, Herbert," the headmaster says, winking at her.

As W.H. enters the office, the old man rises and motions for him to sit down.

But W.H. waves him off and blurts out, "Sir, I'm here to resign my seat and scholarship."

Authors plea: Reviews? If you like the story, lets hear it in the reviews. If you dont like it, lets hear it.


	63. Chapter 62

CHAPTER 62

Dumbfounded, Dr. Bennett repeatedly blinks, then tries to bring the youth to heel by holding his hands up and shushing W.H. "Now, hold on."

W.H. clenches his fists and rocks back and forth until he stands on the tips of his toes. "I'm determined, sir!"

The wise academic takes a long, deep breath and slowly rests his body in a creaking leather desk chair.

"What reason have you to abandon such a fine institution, my good nephew?"

W.H. moves forward. His big blue eyes flash. Words practically explode off his lips. "Well, sir, I've decided that I'm a better hunter than a student."

The headmaster leans back and presses his hands together, locking his fingers. He furrows his brows disapprovingly. "So it'll be the Hudson's Bay Company for you then, eh? And how much does the fur-trap business pay?"

"Well, sir, I've decided that I'm a better hunter than most. I can make three whole dollars an antelope hide, five for buffalo, and fifteen for wolves."

"So it's the wild that calls you, is it? Dollars for hides hardly seems like a fair exchange, considering you have to extinguish lives for the furs."

An evil grin lights up W.H.'s face. "I feel almost the same way, sir. But wolves are evil, and ain't nobody gonna miss a wolf!"

"Isn't," his uncle corrects. "I, ah, see you are motivated by short-term gains versus long-term rewards…" He pauses to see if his barb will hook. When it doesn't, he works a different angle. "You esteem adventure and bounties as greater rewards than knowledge?"

W.H. holds his fingers up and rubs them together. "At present, sir, it pays better than the books."

"That is because education is like a crop. It is only of value once the seed is planted, given time to grow, and then it can be harvested. You have only begun to plant your seed and already you are saying the crop has no value? Do you realize that maybe five percent of the population is educated? Do you know what the family had to sacrifice for you to sit in that seat? Do you have any idea how many others would kill to be in your boots?"

"I'm not saying anything, sir. You know I've been hunting wolves since I was old enough to carry a rifle. I'm just a better hunter than student. Doesn't it make sense to do what you excel at?"

"So there's nothing a salty old man can say that might change your mind and convince you to exhaust your scholarship?"

"No, sir. I've already had enough success over the break that my pockets are weighed down with more pounds than I've ever had. I had to buy a new belt just to keep my britches up."

"I see. What will you do with these gains?"

"I'll invest in better equipment and start my own fur-trade company. Maybe be the next Hudson's Bay Company."

"Uh-huh, and once you've killed all the wolves?"

"That will never happen, sir."

"Perhaps, or perhaps not. These days so many men have guns, it's a wonder any critters wander the earth."

"My point exactly, sir. I gotta get while the getting is good!"

"You are a young man now. You can withdraw from the trust. But I have to warn you that seats are so competitive, you most likely will not be able to return. Plus your scholarship will go to someone else. It's not like these things remain idle." In a flurry of frustration, his uncle shows a hint of anger. "What was all this going on about you being an artist, wanting to build great coliseums. What of your writing? You know it will suffer if you abandon it." Realizing he's not getting anywhere, he transitions. Dr. Bennett leans back in his chair and locks his hands behind his head. "I'm curious. Where will your hunts take you?"

"North woods in Vancouver. They have plenty of wolves to hunt there, and the bounty is sufficient."

"Well, I wish you the best, Nephew. See to it that you write me from time to time and inform me of this great adventure. I will do my best to see if I can secure a seat for you in the event you should change your mind."

W.H. extends his hand, "Thank you, Uncle, for your understanding. I promise I won't regret it. Or I mean, you won't."

The headmaster raises his eyebrows and reluctantly extends his hand.

Kevin lifts a stack of three burning marshmallows to his mouth. With several heaves, he blows them out.

"I'd quit school to shoot wolves. 'Specially if I was getting paid for it," Luther says with a greedy grin, rubbing his hands together.

"Yeah, me too. The most richest men in the world dropped out of school. I'll do the same," John affirms.

Kevin looks at the boys, then thinks over his own options. "I like school. I think I'd stay in and then hunt wolves afterward! I mean, it's not like they're going anywhere." He turns his attention to his scorched marshmallows. He stuffs the burning, ashy treats into his mouth, which simultaneously puffs out his cheeks and causes him to inhale great puffs for air to cool them down.

"W.H. probably should have stayed in boarding school. Instead, he followed his heart. Like most fools at that age, he thought he knew exactly what he wanted. Ideas are sometimes better than reality, though," Charlie says to discourage the boys from abandoning their education.

Several months later, W.H. sits at King's Pub.

"What will it be for you, W.H.?"

"I'll take water. I ain't got no money."

"No money? There's the door. We don't pour charity at this pub. It's whiskey and ale. Besides, it ain't even noon yet. You shouldn't even be in here."

Shocked by his buddy's response, W.H. protests. He cites all the money he's spent at the joint and all the additional customers that came to the bar just to hear his "hero" story. He made sure to comment on how he saved the lumberjack's life. It's no use. The bartender combs his fingers through his imperial mustache with one hand, while the other disappears beneath the bar.

W.H. knows that he's about to be billy clubbed or shot, and he doesn't have enough liquid courage in him to endure either. He lowers his head in shame, slouches his shoulders, and slides off the circular barstool. With a flick of his hand, he sends the wheel seat spinning all the way down to its base. Dragging his feet, he makes his way over to the glass door that reads, KING'S PUB.

Instead of using the bright brass handle, he presses his hand to the glass and leaves an oily palm print. For some reason, this act of resistance seems a better result to him than the arguments his lips fail to form.

When the bell rings from the breeze and the door slowly shuts behind him, he glances at his white Appalachian mountain horse. Taking a quick inventory of the pans, sleeping roll, water jugs, and rifle holster that bog down the beast, W.H. begins to regret the timing of his decision to drop out of school.

"Guess boarding in the dormitories weren't so bad after all." He pouts, wishing his home weren't strapped to his horse's back.

Bingo, his ever-faithful collie, rests at the horse's feet. He releases short whimpers to let W.H. know he's hungry. But the message gets mixed with his wagging tail.

W.H. reaches inside his pockets and turns them inside out. "Looks like we're going to have to eat out of the rubbish pail again, buddy."

Bingo barks and stands up on his hind legs. He turns around in a circle and points at the alley.

W.H. watches the alley and finds what he's looking for; the pub's overweight cook is dumping last week's chili. He waits for the worker to slip back inside his kitchen. Looking left and right to make sure no dignified persons see him, he sprints across the muddy street, trying his best to keep his feet dry. He smacks his lips as he feels his toes get wet. The drive for hunger carries a penalty of discomfort, as does rummaging through the garbage pile. Sweeping the debris away, he seizes his "kill," a mush pile of burnt chili. He scoops it up with his tin pan and tucks it under his arm as he scurries off. A breeze picks up and forces him to turn his collar up. He pushes his hands deep in his pockets to keep his hands warm.

The boys cup their hands to their mouths.

"Ew!"

"Gross!"

"I would have stayed in school." Zack makes a gagging noise at the thought of eating garbage.

"Me too!" John joins in.

"Yeah, I'd never eat trash!" Luther sticks his tongue out dramatically.

"Yuck!" Kevin chimes in after swallowing more marshmallows.

"Yes, sir, boys. Times were a hard for W.H. He and Bingo had to eat mice, rabbits, and squirrels for a short time, too. That is, until something happened a way down southwest. In the frontier lands, near the Mexican border."


	64. Chapter 63

CHAPTER 63

Kiowa and his pack perch like Lords of the Hunt on top of their mountaintop. They scan left and right and patiently wait for flashes of movement.

"This is our seventh peak in three weeks and we have seen no buffalo," Paw says, echoing Kiowa's thoughts.

"I am starving," Walpi grumbles.

"I could chew the bark off a tree," Kida says, looking at the pine trunks next to her.

Kiowa, walk with me, Makes Trouble signs, motioning for his friend.

Kiowa slowly stands up, stretching his legs. He turns and follows Makes Trouble a good distance from the pack.

A short distance away, Makes Trouble signs, Perhaps Raging Bull was telling the truth. We have never, in all of our lives, gone so long without seeing so much as a buffalo track. Our senses are heightened and still we struggle for even a trace. Something is out of order.

"Or perhaps Raging Bull's herd has warned all the buffalo that wolves are hunting them in lands that were once safe."

Makes Trouble nods. Maybe.

"Have the buffalo wings?" Kiowa asks.

Makes Trouble looks at him with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

"They cannot take to the skies, my friend. We will follow the streams until we find a trail. That is what we have always done. It is reasonable to think that animals drink water, is it not?"

This is true, and the streams are high.

"We will find something to ease our pain. Then we will find the buffalo when we have our strength back."

Though Paw can see and hear Kiowa and Makes Trouble's conversation, there was something unsettling in that old buffalo's warning, and he feels uneasy.

I will go look for food down where the pale-face work the land, Makes Trouble decides.

"You are so ugly. Why did you resist the magic?"

Makes Trouble's shoulders droop and his long ears flatten out.

Am I to be a monster all of my days?

A few days later Makes Trouble hides quietly, waiting for night to fall. Earlier in the day he had detected a strong chicken scent and followed his nose to a small ranch that was recently settled and is still under construction. He nestled into the sage grass and observed them all day.

To his great delight, he sees the man of the house kiss his wife and children good-bye, mount his horse, and ride out on some business, no doubt.

What a fool. To leave all of this unprotected. His little woman. His children. His animals. I am going to talk to Kiowa about raiding these foolish, pale people. They have scalps to lose and bounty aplenty.

His lime-green glowing eyes seem to hover in the descending night. Looking through the window, he waits patiently until the candles are blown out and the lanterns dim to darkness. It is time to make trouble and move.

Fortunately for me, the moon is out and will light the way so that no snakes will surprise me and bite me. Oh, how I hate rattlesnakes.

Exercising extreme caution, he moves his massive disfigured frame across the grass with a swiftness and a stealthiness unnatural for a man.

The family bloodhound picks up the intruder's scent and charges him just as he enters the coop.

Makes Trouble releases a low growl that shakes the walls of the henhouse and starts the hens clucking.

The dog lowers his head, tucks his tail between his legs, and disappears into the night.

"Hush, hush, hush," he hisses, holding his long, gnarled fingers up to his fanged mouth. Hush, round, tame white birds. We do not want to wake up the little woman and scare her small children, do we? he signs.

The hens quiet down.

"What is that noise?" Anna, a hen, clucks to her neighbor, Beverly.

"Oh, I don't know. Master is so good to us. He knows a fed hen is a well-bred hen." Beverly yawns, then falls fast asleep.

"He sure does stink. More than usual. It smells like he's bathed…" Before Anna can finish her sentence, Makes Trouble scoops her up. She frantically flutters her wings and attempts to squawk. But Make Trouble's elongated fingers wrap around her beak and head. She feels a tight pressure and then…crack.

See, now, isn't that better? Makes Trouble asks as he opens his giant mouth and stuffs the limp hen in. He nearly swallows her whole.

Gathering one victim after another, Makes Trouble gorges himself. He pays no attention to the farmer's wife, who hears the hens' clucking and lights a lantern, which now illuminates the second-story window.

The intruder doesn't hear the front door slam behind her, and he doesn't hear her cock a double-barreled shotgun.

Makes Trouble is so preoccupied with filling his belly and gathering for the pack that he doesn't detect Lorraine Kelsey till it is too late.

"I'm gonna count to three, and if I don't hear an answer, I'm gonna assume you're a fox," Lorraine shouts.

"One Mississippi." She pushes the buttstock up to her shoulder.

"Two Mississippi." She closes one eye and holds the lantern out as she reaches for the door.

"Three Mississippi." She twists the handle and pulls it wide open.


	65. Chapter 64

CHAPTER 64

When Mrs. Kelsey opens the shed door, she is not prepared for what the devil has in store for her this wicked, enchanted night. She catches Makes Trouble with his monstrous head tilted back, jaws gaping, twitching hen going down the monster's hatch.

"ARRRRGGGGGHHHH," Lorraine shouts as she pulls both triggers, which sends her tiny frame soaring back in the air. When she lands, she hits so hard, she knocks herself out.

Days later, Kiowa and the pack use a stream to follow Makes Trouble's trail. He has not returned, and so they have become worried and determine it is time go looking for him.

"It is hard for me to believe that this river is reduced to a stream in the hot days," Kida says, scanning the glittering ripples.

"In the rainy season, it rages so hard it brings down trees and cuts pathways through mountains," Walpi tells her.

"I smell something," Anoki says, tilting her wet, black nose to the sky. She takes several quick shallow breaths and detects the strong aroma of a musky animal.

"As do I," Kida says, doing the same.

Paw raises his ears. They shift back and forth, then hold steady.

"I hear something," Paw says, focusing his attention.

Kiowa puts his nose to the ground and follows the strong odor. "Makes Trouble came this way."

Paw examines the tracks. He sees Makes Trouble's enormous tracks. All around them are strange, small, pointy hoof tracks that are tightly clustered together.

"I don't like this," he says.

"Don't like what?" Kida asks, detecting concern in his voice.

"It looks like all these little buffalo chased your brother."

"Chased him where?"

"I cannot say. All I can say is that he ran that way." Kiowa points with a paw and begins forming a quick plan.

"If they have harmed one hair on his ugly face, we will surprise them and kill as many as we can," Kida says.

The wolves follow the mysterious trail downstream, eager to learn what has become of their good friend and brother.

Farther downstream, two amiable, puffy white sheep are carefully positioned beside the gentle waters.

"You go first," a large, fluffy sheep bleats.

"No. You said you were thirsty. You go first," the second, incredibly polite sheep responds.

"No, I insist. You were here first."

As the two courteously banter back and forth, the rest of the herd begin to behave strangely. Sheep leap over one another, back to front and side to side.

Kiowa seizes a sheep and thrashes his head back forth, nearly ripping it in half. Unable to fight back, the animal goes limp and dies.

"For Makes Trouble!"

"Arrghhh, help me," the flock cry out, hopping to and fro.

The wolves circle around the sheep and herd them into a giant downy circle. Spots of black sheep make them look like a cup of salt sprinkled with pepper.

"Help us, Billy Bob," the sheep cry out.

From the center of the herd, a brown-and-white-spotted goat with wide rectangular pupils courageously leaps out to face the wolves.

"I'm ah-only gonna tell you once to put that sheep down, then I'm ah-gonna-ah ram ya!" Billy Bob shouts, stomping his hoof.

Walpi looks at the goat and cocks his head to the side.

"Fine, have it a-yer way," Billy Bob shouts. He lowers his horns and gallops in a rather odd staccato fashion.

Unsure of what the pack has encountered or what to do, Walpi freezes at the terrifying rat-a-tat noise the goat's hooves make. Am I to share the same fate as Makes Trouble?

"Ufff." The air escapes from Walpi's lungs in a rush.

"Help! Help! I have no power. I could not get magic or steal it!" Walpi yelps, struggling to catch his breath.

"Did it hurt?" Anoki asks, bounding backward in several frightened pounces.

The rest of the pack laughs at him with large toothy muzzles.

Kida quickly seizes the goat by the throat and delivers the death blow. She immediately regrets her decision.

"Yuck. It tastes worse than skunk!"

"Not the weak tiny white buffalo. They taste delicious," Anoki says, licking her bloody chops. Her white fur looks so similar to theirs. With a glance at the herd, her pupils widen and her tongue dangles out the side of her mouth, dripping saliva. "I want to kill them all!" she says, pouncing at the nearest cluster.

"Anoki, you selfish huntress. Your plan is terrible. You will scatter the herd. Let the men divide the herd. We will take the high ground, and they will drive them to us. Then they will be trapped by the high walls, and we will be able to devour them all."

The two women speak with a kindness that makes them sound more like sisters than one-time enemies.

The men go to work. Though little effort is exerted in the surging attack, the return in kills is much greater than hunting buffalo. The wolves don't seem to tire. Instead they cave to an avalanching bloodlust.

On this day only Kiowa shows restraint.

"We have enough, Anoki. Makes Trouble has been avenged."

Anoki ignores the leader and drives the sheep to the only exit, which is blocked by Kida. She welcomes the helpless bouncing flock with her white ivory fangs.

"We are doomed…bah…bah…doomed. Big bad wolves are coming for us…bah…bah…"

Together, the two females achieve their malevolent goal. As they greedily finish the last helpless animals off, they tilt their heads back and howl.

Paw and Walpi howl back.

Several miles away, another wolf howls back.


	66. Chapter 65

CHAPTER 65

Off in the distance, Makes Trouble wakes to find himself mysteriously transformed into a copper-colored wolf. A dozen dead hen lay prostrate around him. He tries to scoop them into his dry mouth and answer the rally call at the same time, but then he decides the call is top priority.

When the pack hears a distant howl, they decide to investigate it.

"Stop! Who are you?" Kiowa demands when he discovers a handsome russet wolf, its mouth stuffed with poultry.

Makes Trouble stops and cocks his head to the side. He sits on his haunches and signs, It is me, Makes Trouble. I have gathered all these hens for you. I am sorry that I did not return sooner. The woman fired a thunder stick, and I woke up down here…

Before he can finish his sentence, Kida trots up to the impressive wolf and checks his scent.

"It is you, Brother!" She leaps on him and then hugs him.

"Makes Trouble? Is that you in that glorious mane of gilded fur?" Anoki asks as she goes up to greet him.

Kiowa growls, which forces all the wolves to flatten their ears and back away.

Makes Trouble drops down on all fours and rolls over.

"I did what I thought was best. I have brought meat back for the tribe."

Kiowa leans down and smells Makes Trouble. The familiar scent of his pretend brother confirms what everyone else says.

"I don't understand," Kiowa says, looking Makes Trouble over. "We aren't supposed to have enough magic to change until the next harvest moon."

"You would prefer me ugly?" Makes Trouble says and signs.

"I knew you were off making trouble, but I didn't know you were making magic, too!" Kida nudges her brother.

The tribe greets their returned, transformed friend.

Days later, two men examine the slaughtered flock.

Up close, a shiny silver star-shaped badge reads, "SHERIFF, CIMARRON, NEW MEXICO," in black, etched letters. Below the lettering, a rectangular name reads OFFICER DAWSON.

Beside him, a Viking-looking man in his fifties is covered in buffalo furs. He's has a stocky build and a long, blond handlebar mustache and ponytail. He cocks his head to the side and processes the crime scene with affirmative nods and squinting glances. He wears a cap made of red fox fur, and when he nods, the tail waves emphatically behind his head.

"Ain't it hot under that fur cap?" Sheriff Dawson asks.

"I ain't got no hair, so it keeps me from getting chilly."

"Yeah, but it's an extra-hot summer. Folks are saying it's an Indian summer."

"Hot is hot. Cold is cold."

"Whad'ya make of it?" Sheriff Dawson asks the trapper, a man named Dan.

The thickset man scans the scene thoroughly; the stream starts in the distance and runs down between two steep clay-colored canyon walls. The bloody massacre follows the same trail, with the worst of it inside the canyon. His jaw moves back and forth, working a bulging wad of chaw in his cheek. He spits. Nods. And says in a strangely melodic Swedish accent, "Just volves, out der, bean volves."

"What's that? Wolves. Hmm. Well, I'll be honest with you. Wolves are just a might outside my area of expertise. Poachers is fish and game. Indians have their agent, but wolves? These ranchers could sure use some experienced help."

"He didn't even eat dem. He just killed dem fer da fun ov de killin'."

"Folks down here ain't had problems with wolves. They need someone who can restore peace and give them confidence."

Trapper Dan nods and takes his fox cap off. He rubs the top of his shiny, bald head. Tightens his ponytail and squats down to get a closer glimpse at some very peculiar footprints. He measures the distance of Makes Trouble's tracks and can't believe his eyes.

"Do you have da grizzly bears down here?"

"Anything's possible. You think it's more than one predator?"

"Ya!" Trapper Dan speaks in a singsong manner, with high and low tones that make the sheriff grin. "I've heard of das volves killin' fer fun, but I h'ant never seen it. If'n the bounty is high 'nough, I might could do something to help yew."

"County will pay a two-hundred-dollar bounty for the wolf hide you bring in."

The master hunter switches his investigation back to the wolf prints and notices varying widths.

"Is that per volf hide?"

"You think there's more than one?"

"Oh, I don't know," Trapper Dan says passively. "Where der's v'one volf, der's typically more. Two hundred a pelt and yew got yerself a deal." He spits black tar out of his mouth like a grasshopper and into his extended hand.

"That's a hard bargain. Ranchers ain't gonna pay more than damages."

"Dat's my price. Take it or leave it."

From a distance, the stream flows red with sheep blood. Flies swarm the hundred or so uneaten carcasses.

Charlie spits in the fire and flares out his arms to show how husky Trapper Dan was.

"Trapper Dan was rumored to be a dog lover. Folks said he had so many dogs it looked like he had dogs coming out his ears. His favorite hunting hound was a pit bull and, boy oh boy, did he have a bunch of 'em."

"'Cause of their lockjaw?" John blasts, locking his fingers together and snapping them.

"Sure!" Charlie shrugs, offset by the know-it-all.

"How did he keep all those dogs together?" John asks.

"He used a bugle and he had different bursts of notes to get the dogs to do his bidding. Three blasts got them to come back. Long blasts got them to go out east, west, north, or south depending on how hard he blew."

"Are the Indians the wolves?" Luther asks, clearly not listening to the story.

"Duh! You're so stupid!" the boys shout in unison, sticking out their tongues. Luther responds in kind and contorts his face into a hateful expression.

"Das cavalry has arrived! Come on, Captain, find der trail," Dan shouts at his alpha dog. He presses a hollowed-out bugle horn up to his lips and releases several long bursts, which get the dogs excited.

"What do you suppose he wants us to do?" Skip, the alpha's second-in-command asks Captain, the largest pit bull Dan has ever bred.

"I'm not certain. Let's just keep sniffing around until he looks happy," Captain says. He shakes his wide jaws and gray body all the way to the tip of his white stubby tail.

As the hellhounds sniff and expose their sharp, jagged teeth, their tongues protrude out of their wide mouths.

"Hey, Captain, I think I smell something over here," a black female pit bull named Coco says.

The dogs swarm the spot and, sure enough, Trapper Dan takes notice.

"Hey, guys, he's gonna blow the bugle. Let's all run into the canyon and act like we know where were going."

"You got it, Captain," Skip says. He turns to the pack of wandering pit bulls and shouts, "Hey, Master, is going to blow the bugle, and Captain says we all need to follow him into the canyon."

"Did you find something?" asks a white pit bull named Snowflake.

"Coco thinks she—"

Just then Trapper Dan blows the bugle.

"Get 'em, boys! Get yew dat volf!"

The others quickly follow Captain, leaving a thick dust cloud behind them. Their barks echo off the steep red clay sandstone walls.

Trapper Dan mounts his horse and covers his bald head with his red fox hat. As he's about to ride off, two mini-terriers named Limpy and Beau pop their heads out of his saddlebag. They make their contribution with weak howls as the short-haired muscular pit bulls tear off through the canyon.

Trapper Dan smiles, pleased with his well-trained pack. He kicks at his horse's side and revels in the racket their thundering barks create. The brown-and-white-spotted mustang moves out and follows the pit bulls into the canyon.

"Don't vorry, Betty," Dan says to his horse. "I v'eren't telling the complete truth to Sheriff Dawson. One volf bounty is going to pay for yer new saddle." He pats the silver-studded black leather saddle. "Our profits vill be enough to replace this here Colt ring-lever carbine. Oh, von't dat be nice. I have had dis rifle since thirty-nine. Maybe cover all das gambling debts too. Prob'ly ve'll be back at das card table before da nightfall. Ve are going to ve very rich and famous. De whole town vill love us! They will stop calling me Sweed and start calling me Trapper Dan, as da good Lord intended." He grins, increasing the rosy blush in his cheeks.

Farther up the canyon, Kiowa and the wolves enjoy a midday nap. The evidence of their crime is dried all over their fur. The same scent they followed to find the herd of sheep is leading the pit bulls to them now.


	67. Chapter 66

CHAPTER 66

As is the custom in their tribe, one Indian remains awake while the others sleep.

Paw is on watch, and his superior wolf hearing immediately detects a sharp burst from a horn blast, followed by the savagery of hunting hounds.

"Kiowa, wicked winds blow this way," Paw growls, alerting the pack.

Kiowa lazily opens his eyes. With a quick thrust he is instantly on his feet.

"How many?" Kiowa asks, remembering the lessons of ambush.

"I cannot see them. I can only hear them."

"How far?"

"Maybe a mile?"

"What is it?" Makes Trouble asks.

"It is a dog pack," Kida says, leaning down and stretching her front legs.

"We should lead our enemy down the streambeds and use the winding canyons to divide them," Makes Trouble suggests, wanting to reduce the threat as quickly as possible.

"Are the riverbeds dry?" Paw inquires.

"It hasn't rained for many days. The canyon streambeds should be dry."

Kiowa smiles and puts a paw on his almost brother's shoulder. "Are you ready to live up to your name, Makes Trouble?"

Makes Trouble nods and bares his menacing fangs.

"Walpi!" Kiowa shouts.

Walpi stands up.

"Always last," Kida grumbles.

"Run swiftly through the riverbed. Leave a trail and meet us at the end of the north canyon. GO NOW!"

Though Walpi wants to protest that he doesn't know the way, no one dares to disobey the war chief, nor the alpha wolf.

Walpi runs down the ridgeline and begins howling as he speeds through the dry, crusted earth, which used to hold water.

Captain and his pit bull pack hear his howl and pause for a moment.

"Do you hear that?" Skip asks Captain.

"I sure do! We got something on the run, boys. Stay on me!" Captain shouts.

"We got the numbers and the law on our side!" Skip hollers, running alongside Captain.

The pit bulls give chase.

"Anoki, Kida, Paw, lower down into the north canyon and wait behind tall boulders. When we join you, they will be fewer. The strength of our pack will be great. We have magic on our side. Do not be fearful!"

"What will you do?" Anoki asks with concern welling in her eyes.

"When we whittle their numbers down, I will surprise them from behind and drive them to you."

Anoki pauses and thinks on his words for a moment.

"You are my great war chief," she says, standing proudly with her snowy chest pushed out. "I will obey, but I will be thinking of you the whole time."

As the wolves leave the cave and move up a ridgeline, Makes Trouble takes his position by Paw's side and asks, "Do you think they will be as stupid as the Navajo?"

"Let us hope!"

The pit bull posse reaches a fork in the canyon and stop.

"Which way do you want us to go, Captain?" Skip asks.

"Skip, you take half the group that way and I'll take half this way. The canyon can't go on forever. If you reach the end, turn about and rejoin the main group. If you find something, howl and we'll come to you."

"Yipe, yipe, yow," Walpi wails, acting injured. His howls echo off the canyon walls and have the odd effect of seeming closer than they actually are.

"Why ain't we seen him or his trail?" Skip asks.

"We ain't got time for discussion. Master wants a dead wolf and we got him on the run! Now git!"

Skip reluctantly peels off and takes ten of the pit bulls with him.

Up on the high ground, Walpi crouches down and watches Makes Trouble's plan go into effect. How did he know they would divide? he wonders. Scanning the canyon maze, he can see that Skip's pack is going to face another fork. He quickly scoots away from the towering ledge and runs to gain a lead on the pit bulls. He angles his cries so that they bounce off the canyon walls, making it hard for the small pack to decipher which trail he is on. In fact, he is on none of them. But he is above them, watching them. Stalking them. Leading them.

"Whad'ya want us to do, Skip?" Coco asks when they reach another divide.

"Half of you go down that path, with Cypress. The other half, you stick with me."

"How do we even know it's a wolf, Skip?" Coco questions.

"'Cause Captain said, 'Blah, blah, get, blah, blah, wolf.' Now get the wolf!"

From Walpi's high-up perspective, the canyons create a maze for as far as the eye can see.

What would Kida do if she were me right now? he asks himself, pressing his body flat. His golden fur blends him well against the sandstone cliffs.

"She is always urging me to join the pack and fight, even though my Hopi nature tells me to do something else. I would rather plant corn, but wolves do not eat corn. She must be right. My Hopi ways must be wrong. So fight I will do!"

He turns around and starts heading back to where the pack originally divided.

Back at the canyon's entrance, Kiowa sits high on the ridgeline and patiently watches Captain's pack get divided.

BOOM!

A hundred yards into the canyon, the pit bulls stop when they hear the thunderous report of their master's rifle.

"Did you hear that?" Captain asks his pack.

"Master must have shot a wolf."

"Do you think the others will return to Master? Should we?"

"Can't be too sure 'bout them."

"Yit-yowee," Anoki and Kida cry out somewhere in front of the pit bull group.

"Master gives a steak to whoever captures a wolf. Who here wants steak?"

"Me!"

"I do!"

"Me too!"

Captain looks at the two weakest pit bulls in his shrunken pack of five. "Tater and Chili, get back to Master and see if he needs help. Brutus, Hector, and Achilles, you stay with me."

"Let's go earn a steak! Now, are they in front of us or behind us?"

The frothing pit bulls resume their pursuit.

Back at the canyon entrance, Trapper Dan cocks his rifle and takes aim at Kiowa. He squeezes the trigger and lets loose another shot.

Author's note: Trapped. Hunted. Cornered. I wonder what the wolves... I mean the Indians will do?


	68. Chapter 67

CHAPTER 67

Dan looks over his front sites to see if he hit the wolf. An exploding dust cloud indicates a miss, striking earth beneath the largest gray wolf he has ever seen.

"I got yew now, yew grand fella," the crafty trapper declares, cocking his rifle.

He lines his front sight up with the wolf and aims above his right ear.

Trapper Dan takes a long deep breath, then exhales slowly. He rests his finger on the trigger and adds steady pressure.

"A little Kentucky vindage to send you to Valhalla."

"Do you see what he's shooting at?" Beau asks Limpy.

Limpy scans the ridgeline and spots Kiowa. Unable to control himself, he jerks forward and starts barking. Beau does not see Kiowa but follows suit anyway. The eruption surprises Dan, causing him to jerk the shot.

BOOM!

The bullet's impact is close enough to kick dirt and debris up in Kiowa's face, but again, the great trapper who summons thunder with a stick has missed his target. Kiowa squints and looks away but remains motionless. Instead of cutting out like a coward, Kiowa takes a brave stance and proudly displays his courage.

"Simmer down!" Trapper Dan shouts at the little terriers. The hunter swiftly pulls the lever ring and cycles the action. He realigns his square front sight. As back sights align with front, Dan squints his aiming eye and closes his other eye. He begins to squeeze the trigger and allows the wolf to come into focus.

"Yew sure is a pretty volf," he says, admiring Kiowa's stature and features.

As he prepares to feel the trigger click and the rifle kick, he sees the wolf do something he's never seen any animal do in all his years of trapping.

"Is he smiling at us?"

Dan blinks several times and opens both eyes. He shades his eyes with his hand just to be sure he's seeing what he thinks he's seeing.

"V'hy the devil are you mocking me?"

Up on the mountaintop, Kiowa sits perfectly still.

"My magic is strong. You could never shatter my courage. It is in my heart!" Kiowa hisses through clenched teeth.

"Your goose is cooked," Beau shouts back in a thick Scottish accent.

BOOM!

gain, Dan misses; it is a long shot, and the bullet's trajectory is blown off course by the canyon's side winds.

A lone ember tickles down from the weapon's top chamber and slips into the black powder cylinder.

WHA BOOM!

The rifle explodes and sends packed projectiles out the back of the gun and right through Trapper Dan's hand.

"ARRRGGGHHH!"

"On this day I have proven thunder sticks are for cowards!" Kiowa says as he turns around and maneuvers into the canyon. "Now it is my turn to use my weapons!"

Dan holsters his rifle. He claws at his shirt. He untucks it and tears a piece of fabric off, then wraps his wounded hand. He squares himself up and draws his pistol in his good hand.

"Giddyap," Dan says, kicking at Betty's sides. Seeing the wisdom in the wolf's elevated position, he shouts at his horse, "Ve gotta get closer!"

What he doesn't know is that his catastrophe was a master's move. Hunter and pack are now separated by a mile or more.

As Betty carries her master way up the steep canyon switchbacks, the terriers climb on top of her head to gain a better vantage point. "All this better be worth my new saddle," Betty complains to her best friend, Beau.

The little dogs point and then bark to greet Tater and Chili as they run up.

"Did Master kill the wolf?" Tater asks Beau.

"No," Beau responds.

"Did he see the wolf?" Chili wonders, running right behind Betty.

"We both saw him!" Limpy boasts, wagging his clipped tail. "He's bigger than any wolf we've ever seen."

"What should we do?" Tater ponders, hopping up and down excitedly.

"Get out in front of Master and let him know when you see the wolf. He will shoot him the instant you alert him, because Master is the best!"

Chili pants and looks around for water. The blazing sun makes him feel light-headed.

"I think we'll stay right here with you. Maybe Master will give us water."

"Don't vorry, boys. Ve brought das cavalry. Dis wolf ain't gonna stand no chance." Dan lifts his bugle horn to his dry lips and blows as he closes in on Kiowa's cave.

Kiowa moves down into the canyon and toward the ambush point. Across the canyon, Walpi sees the action and drops down from his side to quickly reunite with Kiowa.

Now atop of the canyon, Dan hears more than one wolf howling and yipping. He hurriedly dismounts and reaches into his leather saddle pouch to remove a brass spyglass. With great difficulty, he somehow manages to extend it one-handed.

"Oh my goodness. Oh my gracious. Der's more dan von volf." He moves the eyepiece back and forth and spots Kiowa and Walpi linking up. The hulking odd-shaped objects stand out in stark contrast to their red rock surrounding.

He holds up his fingers, counts to two, and tries to calculate his bounty using his limited education. "Let's see, two times two hundred is two hundred and tventy." His eyes widen at the thought of such riches. He eagerly runs his hand over his handlebar mustache and pats his wounded hand. The realization that more profit exists soothes the wound.

"I've got to get das boys back here now," Trapper Dan concludes. He dismounts Betty, points his pistol in the air, and hastily fires, signaling the pack to return to the master.

Unfortunately, the .44 Texas Walker Ranger Colt is much louder than his rifle and is positioned entirely too close to Betty's ear. The percussion nearly blows her eardrum out.

"OWWWIIIIIEEEE," Betty shrieks, jerking several feet and wincing from the pain.

Unaware, Dan continues to fire, ensuring his brood's return.

Betty panics and instinctively jerks away. She tries to distance herself from the hand cannon but neglects to look behind her. Her hooves teeter on the flaking sandstone edge.

"Whoa, Betty!" Beau tries to calm his friend, but the horse's ears are damaged and ringing so badly she can't hear him.

Limpy leaps for Betty's reins. His little mouth snatches a mouthful of leather strap. He strains his tiny heart, tugging backward on the reins as hard as he can, but even his best efforts feel like nothing to Betty.

Betty takes one last step back. Her wobbling hoof slides on a curved and crumbling ledge. The horse tries to correct, but her metal shoes can't grip the sandy rock. Her hind legs slip out from underneath her and her bulging belly slams against the ledge. She thrusts her front hooves out, clawing at the earth as half her body dangles over the edge. With every ounce of desperate strength left, she strains to gain traction. But it's too late!


	69. Chapter 68

CHAPTER 68

Fortunately, Beau has enough runway to leap off Betty's snout. "Let go, Limpy," Beau shouts at his swaying brother. Limpy releases the reins and falls to the ground.

"I'm killed" are all the words the horse manages to say as her lumbering body slides over the ledge. Trapper Dan fires another shot, masking her long neigh before her collision with the earth.

Oblivious to Betty's dissent, Dan looks down to find Beau and Limpy pawing at his pants legs.

"I'm not saying anything," Beau says, looking sideways at Limpy.

"I won't either." Though Limpy's small brow is furrowed.

"Dat ought to bring dem home." Dan chuckles as he holsters his pistol.

When he turns around to replace the spyglass in the pouch, he finds his horse has been misplaced. He looks to his left. Then to his right. "Where da blazes did Vetty go?"

Tater and Chili whimper.

"Master, please give us water. We are terribly thirsty," Tater says, showing no interest in the devastating loss of Betty.

Dan looks down and pats his dogs on the head. "I know boys…it's hot. Why don't one of vou go find Vetty. She has das canteen…" Before he can finish his sentence, his hunter eyes spy two fresh streaks on the sandstone cliff.

"Oh no. Dis is terrible," he shouts, tossing his fox hat on the ground. "Dadgum half-breed!" he hollers as he jumps up and down, stomping the cap to death for the second time. Sweat beads down his bald head, while his pups whimper.

Deep into the winding north canyon, Kida pants and turns in circles. She whimpers and makes like she's trapped and weak.

As the posse turn a corner, they find the she-wolf all alone.

"What's this? One little wolf?" Captain mocks, shaking his head and laughing.

"Can you believe one scrawny wolf killed all them sheep, Cap?" Hector asks, looking Kida up and down.

"Please, don't hurt me," Kida whines, tilting her ruddy head down and bending her black-lined ears back. She lowers herself to the ground and makes herself as submissive as possible.

"All right, Brutus. This is going to be just like pig hunting. You get her by the ear. Achilles, you latch on to her ankle, and I'll finish the job."

"I have pups to feed. Have mercy!" Kida shouts, stretching out her paw as though to say "Stop."

The pit bulls lower their heads and snarl, ignoring her pleas. As Captain closes in on her, he moves from shadow to daylight. Kida sees his scar-littered face and instantly knows why he's giving orders. She looks his muscular frame up and down, noting possible weaknesses. A front attack would be suicide. His broad chest and distinctive round, bulging jaws contain all of his strength. He would have no problem catching me and tearing me to pieces, she thinks. But his body is narrow. His hind legs hardly have any muscle at all. This is where I will strike!

Kida rolls over onto her stomach and hams up the act. "Go on, finish me quickly. Fear fills my heart…" She wails.

"Oh no…no…no. We're going to take our time, just like you done with them sheep. It's going to be painful. Agonizing. Brutal!" Achilles says, maneuvering behind her.

The beastly growls grow into a ferocious thunderstorm as the pit bulls close in on her.

"Were they your sheep?" Kida asks, rolling back over onto her stomach coyly.

"They were someone's!" Captain says, waiting for his boys do their part.

Hector and Brutus circle Kida and snap at her legs, which she masterfully keeps tucked beneath her hindquarters, so they can't gain an advantage.

"Ya hay, nah ah hay. Yaw ah hey ah ya hey!" The Kiowa war song echoes off canyon walls, foreshadowing a thunderous attack.

"Ya hay, nah ah hay," Kida sings with him.

"Why are you doing that?" Captain asks.

Walpi appears around the bend, coming up from the rear of the canyon and chanting the war song.

Looking behind her, Kida can't help but notice how brave Walpi looks with his mane grizzled up, his fangs snapping, eyes fierce and focused. For some reason, she feels butterflies swirl in her belly.

Surprised, but eager to attack, the pit bulls continue their advance on Kida. Suddenly, Anoki appears on top of a very large boulder, positioned her to the left of Kida and several feet above. Her white coat shines brilliantly.

"I killed most of the sheep myself. Will you kill me slowly?" she jabs.

The pit bulls abort their attack and huddle up. They whisper to one another.

"What's wrong? Look at them. Fear freezes their tongues to their lips. See how now they have nothing to say," Kida ridicules them.

Kiowa slowly appears from around the bend like Walpi. His towering stature is easily double that of any pit bull.

"We all killed the sheep. We hunt. We kill. We survive. Is it any different from you?" Kiowa asks.

"We are nothing like you!" Captain retorts, standing bravely in front of his crew.

Beside Brutus, the earth begins to shake. Makes Trouble rises from the dust, chanting, "Ah hey, haya hey. Ya hey, not ta how!"

"What kind of wolves are you?" Achilles roars.

"And what do you eat?" Paw says, rising from the sands like Makes Trouble. He is near Achilles.

The pit bulls suddenly find themselves surrounded by wolves.

"We eat what our master feeds us. It's the way we live."

"Out here we are our own masters. And we must feed ourselves."

Brutus tilts his head and howls for the pack.

"It's no use," Walpi seethes through his fangs. "I made sure your pack couldn't hear you!"

Realizing the error of his ways, Captain puffs, "You divided us and then led us into an ambush."

"Ha, nay, yet ah hey!" the wolf pack chants in unison.

"Join us or die!" Kiowa says, extending an olive branch.


	70. Chapter 69

CHAPTER 69

"What?" Kida asks in disbelief.

"Ha!" Captain shouts, puffing up his boxy chest. He paces back and forth. "I would never run with wolves! Y'all are wild and turn on your own. You got no laws, no loyalty, no master, and no right to wander these lands and take what ain't yours."

"Ha, nay, yet ah hey!" he wolves continue.

Brutus, Hector, and Achilles start barking to drown out the incessant chanting.

Kiowa does not charge as everyone had expected him to. He just stands still, frozen, waiting. His ears are pricked up. He is on alert, but waits to attack. His eyes study the curious-looking pack of animals that have just refused his offer. He has never been refused, and he has never seen such strangely put together creatures. They don't even look like dogs. Their ears are clipped and pointed, their tails come to an odd, stumpy end, and their noses are smashed into their peculiar flat faces like their masters abused them terribly. But the worst trouble is derived from their broad mouths, which pose an obvious problem in a fight.

Unwilling to accept strangers, Kida takes it upon herself to protect the integrity of the pack. Without the alpha's permission, she charges Hector. They clack teeth and claw at each other's bodies.

With the sudden action, Walpi's hair rises on his neck and spreads across his shoulders. He charges past Kiowa and catches Hector unexpectedly by the throat. His attack is ferocious; he tears through Hector's thin skin and latches on to the jugular. Blood gushes into his mouth and sends him into a blood frenzy. The thought of Kida being attacked fills his heart with rage. His growls unite with hers, and they both cave to the wild, instigating the pack's attack.

In an instant Makes Trouble answers the call. He seizes Brutus's hind leg by the meaty portion, and the pair engage and return blow for blow. Their beastly whirlwind creates a dust cloud that masks the fight.

Paw leaps forward and bites down on the back of Achilles's neck. Achilles arches wildly, shaking off the attack. He flips around and bites Paw's front leg. The crushing pain from the pit bull's jaws make him release and cry out.

To Kiowa's distress, Anoki leaps from the boulder and disappears into the fray. He wants to charge in and join the rumble, but the scars on Captain's face and body give him the distinct impression that this dog will not simply let him skirt by.

Hector puts up a decent defense, but Walpi's death blow is quick and successfully reduces the pit bulls' numbers. Now the wolves have an even greater advantage.

In all the concealed savagery, the yelping, the snarling, the snapping jaws, Kiowa can think only of Anoki, and that is his first mistake.

Captain is the only thing that stands between complete chaos and Kiowa. He waits for the alpha wolf to come to him, and when doesn't, Captain lunges forward in the battle royal. One single ambition drives him "to kill the wolf!"

He sprints toward Kiowa; his bulging cheeks lift from the momentum, exposing his teeth, and then droop once more.

Kiowa waits for the pit bull to lunge at him, then skillfully darts out of the way. He's the first to draw blood with slashing fangs that leave his mark on Captain's shoulder.

"These are not your lands. You should have stayed in Texas, Cap-i-tan," Kiowa shouts, lowering his head, exposing his fangs, and rising to the challenge.

"What do you say just you and I finish this? If I win, your boys leave the Currumpaw and only you die. If you win, the fight ends with me, and the rest of my pack agree to leave the Currumpaw forever."

"Your pack is going to die one at a time. They are lost to the badlands, miles past any water source. The Sun God has withheld his tears for much time. They have no water. No food. And if they aren't soon killing sheep, they will die too." Kiowa lunges forward. "As will you!"

Wild beast collides with tamed canine and at first the fight seems equal.

They charge one another and use their front paws to push one another down, each looking to gain an advantage. The wolf clenching down on one dog's thin, loose skin, then slashing it with ease.

Captain only laughs. "That's it? You are not gonna bite and hold on, just slash and run?"

His taunt has its intended effect. The two quickly resume the fight with a vicious vigor. Try as he might, Kiowa cannot seem to get to the soft underside of the dog's belly. Captain's narrow hindquarters are much like the buffalos' in that he pivots with an unexpected speed and changes direction faster than an animal his size should be able.

Both defend their necks by twisting their jaws back and forth with lightning speed. Kiowa slashes at Captain's face, then rips a piece out of his shoulder. All the time they are fighting, Kiowa can't help but worry about Anoki. This constant distraction saps his energy. Lost in that thought, he gives Captain an advantage that the seasoned warrior does not miss. Captain finds a vulnerable spot on Kiowa's shoulder and bites harder than the warrior had expected. Between the two, Captain bleeds far worse than Kiowa. But Captain has a tight grip, and his determination to go for the death blow blazes in his dilated brown eyes.

Captain's short tail wags enthusiastically, convincing Kiowa that he's actually having fun. The dog swings his agile hind legs here and there. He bounces back and forth, both biting and thrashing, which causes Kiowa to thrust forward and expose more of his chest. Captain successfully sifts through Kiowa's thick fur and sinks his teeth deep into Kiowa's chest. The pain is excruciating. With a mouthful of fur and flesh, Captain is forced to breathe out of his nose in trembling huffs.

Captain squats low and works his stout body like an anchor. Kiowa tries to return pain for pain, but Captain expertly darts his body back and forth so that the wolf's snapping fangs miss with each bite. Every wasted effort is followed by a paralyzing tug from the canine's locked jaws. Between his worry for Anoki and this yanking, tugging weight, Kiowa's ability to maneuver is clipped.

"Ever hear of lockjaw, wolf?" Captain grumbles through blood-soaked lips.

Kiowa can feel the pit bull's jaws reposition and strengthen their grip. They expand and contract over and over again in a chewing motion that never loses strength and never seems to tire. Captain's agonizing determination forces Kiowa to cry out, which frightens his otherwise victorious wolf pack. Never in all of the time they have known Kiowa have any of them heard their war chief yelp as he does now.

The sound tortures Anoki and forces her into action. She leaps out of the dust cloud and rushes over to join her lover's fight, only to be detained by Kida.

Tater and Chili appear off in the distance. They have finally answered Captain's call. They are late, but they have answered.

Makes Trouble and Walpi run up to higher elevation and allow the pit bulls' reinforcements to charge into the canyon.

"Captain!" Tater shouts, sprinting toward the bloody engagement. The fresh pit bulls bark and rush in like crazed matadors as Anoki and Kida sit down and stare at them.

Chili nears the fight but neither he nor Tater get very far.

Walpi and Makes Trouble strain and work together to push boulders off the cliff and start a landslide. Tumbling rocks smash against the pit bulls' bodies and pin the dogs beneath their hulking weight. Kida and Anoki are quick to end Chili. All four of the wolves turn on Tater.

Feeling the wolf's strength fade, Captain is immensely satisfied. He tenses up, hoping to finish the attack. "Ain't nothing gonna make me let go, wolf! I'm just gonna keep walking this bite up your chest and hang, like a weight, on your neck till you…"

As the dust cloud starts to settle, Kiowa finally gets eyes on Anoki and finds she is safe, to his tremendous relief. The overwhelming pain in his chest pulls him out of his savage and wild mind-set, allowing Kiowa to fall back on his human strategy. He puts his paws on the pit bull's head and uses his claws to gouge Captain's eyes.

Captain winces from the pain. He renews his determination and tries hopping and tugging at Kiowa's throat in an effort to subdue the wolf leader.

The pit bull makes the mistake of hopping in a pattern. Kiowa waits for him to set his feet on the ground and expertly executes an Indian wrestling move to trip up Captain's legs.

It works. The pit bull falls down and exposes an ear, mangled from previous fights. With all the strength he has left, Kiowa snaps down with his molars. The pit bull yipes in agonizing pain, yet refuses to let go.

Kiowa latches down repeatedly, chomping and tearing pieces of Captain's ear off. With each successful bite, Captain jerks and exposes a little of his face. He endures the pain magnificently, but when Kiowa starts tearing pieces of his cheeks off, his determination wanes.

Kiowa manages to get a lower fang in Captain's eye. Jaws that were once locked finally release.


	71. Chapter 70

CHAPTER 70

Feeling his carnal nature resurface, Kiowa lets the wolf take over. He works his bites down Captain's neck and repeatedly attacks until Captain's strength fades. When the pit bull stumbles onto his side, Kiowa pins him down and tears into his abdomen, disemboweling him. In seconds, Captain, the great leader of the Texas pit bull pack, gives up the ghost.

After he feels the pit bull's body go limp, Kiowa raises his blood-soaked snout and howls victoriously. The pack responds by howling with him. The echoing howls attract Coco and three other pit bulls.

High up on a mountaintop, near the wolves' cave, Trapper Dan looks through his spyglass. He catches glimpses of his dogs here and there, but can't make out what's going on.

"I can't get nvheres near dem vithout my horse," he says, looking back at the drop-off.

"I'm comin', boys!" he shouts, then blows on his horn to let them know that Master is on his way.

The pit bulls rally at the loss of Captain. They determine to avenge him but make the mistake of attacking the wolves individually or in groups of two. What Dan couldn't see is that the dogs who have managed to find the wolves wish they hadn't. Day turns to evening and the wolves' howls greet victim after victim, until the pit bulls bark no more and the dust finally settles.

"Quit dat blasted howling! Listen to das horn!" Dan shouts, blowing his horned trumpet with all of his might.

Trapper Dan works his way down the cliff, moving far slower than when Betty took him up. His feet are sore and his head aches from the day's intense sunlight and heat. "Vhy ain't dey barkin' no more? Vhere'd dey all go?" The terriers crouch down, putting their paws over their heads and trembling.

"Come on, Limpy, we have to stay with Master."

"I'm too tired!" Limpy complains, refusing to move.

Trapper Dan descends from the cliff and removes his canteen from his dead horse.

A full harvest moon begins to rise in the early-evening sky, quickly joined by a sea of twinkling stars.

"Oh, Betty, I'm so sorry. I should have been more careful," Dan wails, combing his handlebar mustache.

Clouds float in front of the moon and mask its ivory light. The canyon grows very, very dark.

Trapper Dan blows and blows on his horn, but hardly a hiss comes from the noisy contraption. He has exhausted himself, and no dogs heed the call. He whistles, cocks his gun, and fires, but his efforts are answered by a cold silence. Not even the wolves howl.

Now a good distance from Limpy, he hears a loud shriek. Then silence.

He claps his hands and says, "Come on, boy! Come to Dädi."

"Limpy, did you fall?" Beau asks, starting to move back up the switchback, to where he last saw his little friend.

A flash of gold fur creates the slightest gust of wind.

"Limpy? Come on, boy…come to Dädi."

Dan feels like he's dying of thirst. He pulls the cork plug on his canteen and guzzles some of his precious water. Even though it's night, he can hear the flies swarming his horse's body.

"Vat an awful mess!"

He sits down on a boulder and sobs. Cradling his wounded hand, he sets his black powder pistol against a rock. He removes his boot and turns it upside down to get the pebbles out, then leans back and tilts the canteen up for another swig.

"Come on, boys," he says, shaking the half-full canteen. "Come, drink with me."

When the terriers don't respond, he knows something isn't right. Slowly he reaches for his pistol, but it's not where he set it. He stands up and looks all around, but he can't seem to find the place he rested it.

"I'm comin' unglued." He frantically searches everywhere.

As the clouds pass, the moonlight illuminates everything. He looks up and sees two glowing yellow eyes shrouded in a black-and-white wolf mask.

A word: Nature vs nature. Can man tame the beast within? A more dynamic question is, can the beast tame the man? What would you do?


	72. Chapter 71

CHAPTER 71

He hears a noise to his right. When he looks, Makes Trouble opens his mouth and drops Beau's body. It lands limply at Dan's feet.

"Vhat?" Dan stumbles back and frantically searches for his weapon. As he turns to run, he bumps into Paw, who carries the pistol in his mouth, like he's just retrieved a stick.

Kiowa's thunderous growls reverberate off Dan's chest. The hunter looks left to right and spots one wolf after another creeping out from behind the nearby boulders. The pack quickly seizes Dan's limbs.

"I want to be the one to kill him," Makes Trouble snarls, working his jaws like a butcher sharpens knives.

Kiowa leaps between Dan and his pretend brother. He opens his mouth and presses his full weight on Dan's wide stomach. He presses his sharp claws against Dan's burly chest and feels himself start to lose control when the man squirms under his paws. He growls so close to Trapper Dan's face that he can feel hot breath escaping his shuddering lips. He puts his paw on Dan's hairy chest, showing that his enemy has been conquered.

Dan shields his face with his hands and arms. "NO! DON'T EAT ME!"

Just as Trapper Dan thinks his goose is cooked, the cloud cover dissipates and the harvest moon's beams blast down on the wolves. Kiowa slowly shape-shifts into his natural form, starting from his feet and ending with his head.

"AAAAHHHH! AHHH! AHHH!" Trapper Dan's feels fear in its most potent form explode off his lips in terrifying wails.

The other wolves shape-shift as well, still holding Trapper Dan by his clothes with their human teeth. They continue to growl.

Kiowa slaps Trapper Dan across the face.

"We don't eat men!" he says in a language Dan can't understand.

"Verevolves…Injun verevolves!"

Kiowa steps off Dan's chest, which causes the others to release him.

Dan scrambles to his feet and clumsily sprints back toward the riverbed. He runs screaming like a madman, tripping over everything as he goes.

"Arrroooowwww." Kiowa cups his hand to his mouth and howls.

The tribe laughs and howls with him.

W.H. sits on the steps of an icy street, shaking his tin cup. "Any spare change would be greatly appreciated."

A man walking past shields his eyes from falling snow. He looks down at the pitiful wolf hunter and says, "You're a grown man. Get a dang job!"

"Snowfall was too heavy to hunt. I'd freeze to death out there, I would, mister. Please…" W.H. sighs and lets his cup droop to the point it dangles off his trigger finger.

An older, well-dressed gentlemen walks up to W.H. and drops a penny in the cup. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Dr. Bennett?"

"How is your expedition?"

W.H. lowers his head in shame.

"Will you come back to school, or do you still insist on trapping for a living?"

"I have seriously reconsidered my position!"

"I'd hoped you would say that, my good nephew. Nothing like a hungry stomach and a cold winter's night to bring you to your senses. Come, let us get you something warm to eat as you listen to an offer I think you will find difficult to refuse."

The pair venture into a nearby rustic, frontier-style pub. Long round logs stacked on one another make a humble building. A tin roof keeps the snow out. A river-rock fireplace stuffed with blazing logs generates a wonderful comforting heat.

A waiter with a bushy black mustache greets them. The headmaster holds up two fingers and is quickly escorted to a table. Before the waiter can hand them their menus, the headmaster orders.

"Two Dutch stews and keep the biscuits coming. I believe my nephew is close to starving."

The meaty aroma makes W.H.'s stomach grumble. He tries to maintain a calm, cool demeanor, but his eyes dart back and forth and give away his famished state.

The dean unrolls a copy of the Squatter South. The first paper in Atchison, Kansas.

Dr. Bennett shuffles in his seat and bops his legs. When the waiter brings two tankards of ale, he lifts his and slams it against W.H.'s. Foam spills over both and makes a frothy mess on the pine plank table.

His eyes explode with excitement. "I am adamant that you must learn the value of education."

Not wanting to hear the lecture but eager for the food, W.H. lets his eyes wander toward the kitchen. It's really too bad that arms don't have mouths and legs. They could leap out of my sockets, run to the kitchen, and gorge themselves while my ears and hollows could oblige him. W.H. smirks, which Dr. Bennett misinterprets as agreement.

"Ah…I knew you would be reasonable." He puts his hand on a manila envelope, postmarked NYC. "I have done some research and found several periodicals I believe may be of interest to you. Here is a letter of intent I have secured from some commissioned gentlemen of the Hudson's Bay Company. They are all masons in one way or another, you know." He leans forward and whispers, "They always want new members to keep their secrets, ugh…hum…Well, you know how they carry on, and naturally they suspected I would be a good candidate, so…where was I?"

"Research."

"Ah, yes! Research. As I was saying, you piqued my interest with your passionate pitch for the hunting endeavor. So, being the good uncle that I am, I thought I would show you the impact education can have. First, I leveraged my network on your behalf. I wrote several friends at universities and they responded in kind, might I add, with two very intriguing pieces." He slides the envelope across the table, then catches his mug and guzzles his ale. When he's downed the entire vat, he slams his tin mug down on the table and uses his brown-and-black-checkered wool coat sleeve to wipe his foamy mustache.

"I am of the firm opinion, young man, that you have redeemable qualities. Sure, you may not be the most handsome devil on the block"—he winks—"and though the ladies hardly pay you any mind, unless you tell your wolf stories and liquor them up, but where does that end? More trouble. Believe me. I have seen it a thousand times. But I digress. Here's what I believe. Your aspirations can be united with members of the lodge, commissioned gentlemen, who are the sole purpose this town was created."

W.H. combs his hands through his scruff. "You're losing me."

"Did you not know that Winnipeg was created as a place where Hudson's Bay officers could retire. Take their fortunes. Start new endeavors?"

W.H. shakes his head no and taps his foot, counting the minutes until the meal reaches his lips.

"Education nephew. Always measure things in principal, time, energy. Have you learned nothing. Oh never mind. Well, it would seem that you may be in just such a position to satisfy my colleagues interest. See they always have their eye on increasing their fortune. In short, open the envelope."

W.H. opens the envelope. He unfolds a neatly handwritten letter on yellow paper in quill ink. Two newspaper articles separate from the letter and slide onto the table. He scans the letter and reads the title, LETTER OF INTENT.

"Terms?" W.H. asks bluntly.

"Your ambition is so sharp it cuts straight to the bone, eh?" The headmaster waves his curt nephew off. "Well, then, we shall skip the pleasantries and I will tell you what this first article says from the Omaha Times. It basically says that the United States will be giving land grants to the Union Pacific Railroad. Have you any idea what this means?"

W.H. shakes his head and searches for his food.

"What is it about youth that you are blinded to opportunity?"

Author's essential comment: It's Christmas eve. I'm in Siderno. All the restaurants are close. My tummy is growling. I ate a conli. Now my tummy is dancing with the holly bears. Well... at least to the song, "Holy & The Ivy." Merry Christmas?


	73. Chapter 72

CHAPTER 72

W.H. shrugs.

Lifting the letter of intent with two pinched fingers Dr. Bennett says, "These men have issued a letter of intent. They have substantial capital from their profits with the Hudson's Bay Company. They wish to send their bourgeoning prosperity into a new life. A place where the lure of even greater fortunes draws every man who can swing a pick. Carve out a farm. And build a life. Every woman can vie for a husband, some land, and a home. They're calling it the American dream. Look here."

He points to the article. W.H. lifts it up and scans it.

"I know I may have fallen on desperate times, but everyone starts hard. Why, even Moses had it rough. Besides, none of this makes sense to me. Hudson's Bay Company. American dream. It's not my dream. I hunt wolves. That's it. That's all I'm truly good at."

Dr. Bennett sighs and pushes the second article into W.H.'s view. "The retirees have organized into a board of directors and established a scholarship. This article, published by Scientific American, is the hunt of all hunts."

W.H. reads a headline that immediately catches his eye. NEW MEXICO'S WEREWOLF.

He reads of on.

"Mrs. Lorraine Kelsey, of Cimarron, New Mexico, had her cage literally rattled when she checked on her hens in the middle of the night and found a full-grown werewolf in her chicken coop. Worried for the safety of her children and her fowl, she defended herself. In less than a second she fired two shots from her double-barreled shotgun, which lay her unconscious. The first shot knocked me plum out. When asked why she thought the werewolf chose not to harm her or her young 'uns, she replied, "Well, while I was flying through the air, I said a quick prayer to Jesus. Then I hit the ground. Next thing I knew, I woke up to a pail of water in my face and my young 'uns circled around me bawlin' their eyes out. All I can say is God hears prayers!" Mrs. Kelsey did not find a body, which according to locals and legend is due to lead projectiles instead of pure silver. The whereabouts of her protector and husband were earnestly established on his having honest business with the inquisition of a railroad expansion through New Mexico. "Folks will be glad to know that prices are going down on all goods. Forts will give way to Main Street. Ferry and stagecoach will be relics to our children's children." As most maids of the new lands will note, Colt Firearms is the leading craftsman of fine firearms. Repels Injuns, renegade Mexicans, mistrustful whites, runaway slaves, thieves, murderers, and now werewolves. Colt has recently announced an upcoming pure silver projectile…"

"This here is horse dung! That ain't an article. It's an advertisement designed to push sales," W.H. shouts, pushing the article back to his uncle.

"Aren't…or are not any such thing as werewolves. Scientists are men and men are flawed. Yes, they once thought the earth was flat, but we now know it to be round. Hey, do you know the difference between science and religion?"

W.H. shakes his head no.

"In science, you can be right until proven wrong. Then you can just prove yourself right again. It's fluid, see."

"And religion?"

"You can never be proven wrong!" Dr. Bennett finds this punch line so hysterical he laughs until his face turns as red as a tomato. When the headmaster calms down, he polishes his silverware with his napkin, then neatly tucks it into his shirt, properly preparing for his meal. It isn't long before the steaming stew arrives.

As soon as the slop hits his bowl, W.H. wastes no time in attacking his food.

"I don't believe in folklore or superstition," W.H. says, stuffing biscuits in his mouth as though they might grow legs, leap off the plate, and run away.

"Belief has little to do with science. Our science division is fascinated with new specimens. As you are a specimen gatherer, I have recommended your name to the board of directors for the scholarship. Combine that with the board's letter of intent and you have a substantial fortune waiting to be gathered."

W.H. swallows and says, "A wolf at my feet is worth a pack in the woods." He resumes his attack.

"Nephew, you are positively ignorant and stubborn."

"Let me see if I can get this straight: You want me to travel to Nebraska, which is no doubt packed with Indians. See if I can't find some sort of land speculation that benefits the retirees. Then travel to New Mexico to kill a werewolf, that doesn't exist in the hopes that the school may collect a specimen?"

"How's your stew?" his uncle asks him.

W.H. stops chewing, wondering if the old man's age hasn't gotten to him.

"Isn't it nice to have a warm meal and a full belly? There's a lot of warm meals that reward money can provide you. If you are the hunter you proclaim yourself to be, then prove it!"

The wolf hunter gulps down his half-chewed food and finally comes to understand the professor.

"How much?"

"One thousand dollars."

W.H. pauses for a moment, then explodes with excitement.

"Whoo-weee! That's more bounty than most outlaws is worth."

"Are worth, nephew. Had you taken the time to read the article, you might have noticed that lots with homes are selling for twelve hundred dollars. If you appease the board, they may pay you for your efforts and you could find yourself a home right on the river for ten thousand dollars."

"What's the split?"

"Split?"

"I ain't…" He corrects himself. "I am not going fifty-fifty if I am going to do all the lifting."

"You misunderstand me. I'm in no need of money. I have a comfortable home and a rewarding career. The reward is all yours, provided you can capture, kill, and deliver the specimen or appease the board by gathering information on land grants and perhaps securing a few land deeds here and there."

"Oh, I can guarantee you that wolf is as good as dead!"

"These are my terms: Trap the 'werewolf' and the reward plus the bounty is yours. However, if you should come up empty-handed, then you must return to school for the fall semester with detailed maps, newspaper articles, and reputable contacts for the board of directors to pursue a new hedge fund. You must keep a journal and give up hunting as an occupation and commit to finishing your studies and maybe even consider taking my post when I retire."

W.H. chews his food and thinks for a moment. "Do I have to pay the scholarship back if I come up empty-handed?"

"Not if you keep a journal, take daguerreotypes, and teach one semester the following year."

"Dagoro-who?"

"It's a device they're using to take these new things called pictures. You've seen them, I'm sure."

W.H. finishes eating and packs his leftovers in a red bandana for Bingo. He clears his throat, "Well, seein' as how business is slow, I'm going to take you up on your offer. Does it matter that I don't know how to use your…what did you call it?"

"Daguerreotype. No it doesn't matter if you know how to use one. If you would like, you can stay another semester and take a class on it. Professor Higgs has room—"

W.H. holds up his hand and cuts his uncle off. "Not interested. I'll figure it out. Can't be as hard as hunting wolves. Am I expected to supply the recording materials? Quill pen? Paper? Sketch pencils? Daguerreotype?"

"No, no. The picture contraption, journal, and money are all included. Though the devices are going to require quite a bit in the way of accessories."

W.H. reluctantly agrees. "I'm a single man on a horse. I'll make room." He looks at the headmaster for a moment like he's waiting to see if this is all a joke. When he realizes that it is not, he extends his hand. His uncle takes it, and hugs his uncle.

"Thank you for this and the meal, Uncle. I love you, and I swear I won't let you down, sir."

"That's a good lad. Personally, I fancy this tall tale is nothing more than American folklore, but if dispelling some desert plains rumors gets you back in school, then so be it. And if, on the other hand, there is werewolf, our walls will be packed with spectators and students. I'm sure a fortune can be made there."

"Whether legend or lore, if it's a wolf, I'll find it and kill it!"

Charlie empties rocks out of his boots.

"One thousand dollars sure is a lot of money," Luther says, thinking of the ways he would spend it.

"You'd think it was, wouldn't cha?"

"Yup!" Luther smiles greedily and nods.

"About this time, Kiowa began to understand Onendah's words, back when Onendah said he would still have troubles. Being hunted was just the beginning of his troubles. As it turns out, Raging Bull was telling the truth as well. The buffalo were being hunted to extinction."

"What's extinction?" Kevin asks.

"It means no more buffalo," Charlie answers.

"Why did the Indians hunt the buffalo to ex-tink-erton?" Zack asks, failing to pronounce the word properly.

"It wasn't just the Indians who were hunting the buffalo. It was the US Army and pale-face buffalo hunters."

"Aren't we all pale-faces?" Kevin asks.

Everyone looks at him, unsure of what to say, since his Korean features obviously set him apart. Charlie simply nods and continues with the story.

"So wait. There's Kiowa, Hopi, Navajo, Cherokee…and pale-face Indians?" John asks.

"No…no…Wait. I see why you're confused. Pale-face isn't an Indian tribe. It's an Indian term used to describe the white man." Charlie laughs. He wraps his hands around his belly and says, "We are all pale-faces to them."

Kevin nods.

"Why'd the pale-face want to kill the buffalo?"

"Oh, a lot of reasons. Probably the most important was for cattle grazing and railroads."

"No way, eh?" Kevin says in complete disbelief.

"What about the white buffalo? Was he putting all the buffalo in a cave where no one could find them?" Luther asks.

"No, stupid! Don't you understand? There is no cave. That's just hogwash the buffalo believe! It isn't true! Right?" John asks Charlie.

Charlie ignores them and continues. "I know most of yous have heard of the sun dance, but how many of you have heard of the moon dance?"

No one raises his hand.

"That's because it's a new dance and only the skinwalkers performed it."


	74. Chapter 73

CHAPTER 73

Back at the sacred pine forest, where the Indians first transformed into wolves, Onendah stands in front of a lean-to medicine lodge. He had crudely stretched buffalo hides over the weak beams and wetted them down. The hasty construction had gone into the night.

"Come, friends. It has been a winter, a spring, a summer, and now a fall. I have safe lodgings for you. Come." He pulls a buffalo-skin flap back. Billowing steam plumes out and obscures the brilliant harvest moon.

Paw and Makes Trouble go to work on the lodge, ensuring that it is stable.

"What am I supposed to do?" Anoki asks Kiowa.

"Be cleansed," Kiowa answers, putting his arm around his scantily clad wife.

"Why must we be cleansed?" Walpi whispers to Kida.

"Because your spirit is dirty," Kida whispers back.

Onendah beckons them and pats each one on the head as they enter the lodge. "I must hear your stories and we must all dance a new moon dance to honor the gods before dawn. I have spent a year getting ready for it. Since you have all returned unharmed, we must worship and make a sacrifice to the gods."

"But we have so little time," Walpi complains.

Everyone goes silent.

Onendah hits him with his wand. "There, you have been marked. If trouble comes, it comes to you. All the rest who want protection, we must dance and be thankful."

He leads the nearly naked, wobbling tribe into the lodge.

"Ha! You have forgotten how to walk as people. It is to be expected. I forgot how to use my people arms. But see how quickly my hands work?" He motions all around with his hands to show them what he's done.

Paintings and dream weavers litter the shelter. Walpi and Anoki wear the same dumbfounded expression, while the Kiowa walk up to the magic symbols and motion with their hands. They thank their gods and pray to them for protection. Walpi rubs the spot where Onendah hit him.

How do I shake a curse? he wonders.

A tremendous wave of heat opens every pore as Onendah spills water onto heated rocks. Inside, a large pole is painted white and decorated with bat wings strung together, taut raccoon skins, spider webs captured in time, and snakeskins frozen midslither. They all point to the sky to honor the creator.

"We must have spirits of the night with us if we are to be cleansed and receive their powers."

Onendah escorts the men to one side and the women to the other. They thank him as they dress in white Kiowa ceremonial deerskin raiment.

"What is it like to walk as wolves?"

They all look at one another and smile with an understanding that words cannot describe.

"It is—" Paw begins.

"Yes, that is wonderful." Onendah cuts him off. He waves an eagle feather fan and disperses sagebrush smoke. "It is quite amazing to be an eagle also, but I will not bore you with the greatness of flight and all the many wonderful things I have seen. Listen, dawn is fast approaching. We must move. We must dance."

"Quickly, paint your faces. Hurry, now. We mustn't waste time. The sun will be upon us, and I am sad to say that the Kiowa tribe searches for you still," the medicine man informs them as he hands them a tray of white paint.

Anoki paints a single stripe across her face. Kiowa presses his hands against both sides of his mouth and uses three fingers to leave tracks across his forehead. Each Indian paints themselves according to their visions.

Onendah motions for them to sit down once they are finished. He lights a long hollowed-out pipe and passes it around.

"Het ya. Nay ah, hay ya." He begins to chant the medicine song. He motions for them to repeat his prayer.

"Brother to the sun, we thank you, pale moon, for keeping our secrets and letting us live a life that we could not dream, but living in it feels like a dream."

Kiowa begins to sway back and forth. The men follow his lead. Kida beats her hands against a raw hide. She exaggerates the motion to show Anoki she is to do the same.

The dance takes up most of the night. Onendah brings out a leather pouch with the invaluable stone idol, Taime.

"I know we would normally dance for days, but because of our circumstances, we have only this little bit of time. I have Taime with me. Ask his blessing and be on your way."

"Let Anoki go first," Kiowa politely requests.

Anoki sits up on her knees and makes rocking motions with her cradling arms. "I would like a baby. Many winters with my loving husband. And enough game to last all of us through another winter."

Kiowa motions to his teeth and pretends to elongate them. He thanks Taime for giving him the power to defeat his enemies. He asks with hand signs that his mind will be quicker than his enemies', his heart braver, his strength increased tenfold, and his magic even more powerful.

Paw's request is quick. He thanks Taime for giving him new legs and asks that he may continue to look after one who feels like his son, Kiowa.

Makes Trouble lifts an owl wing and drags the feathers across his face. He asks that Taime will sweep doubts away from his eyes. He motions fox ears with his fingers and asks that his mind will be clever and filled with fox thoughts. He also asks for wisdom beyond the owl. He prays for the power of an entire wolf pack and asks his tribe to forgive him if he fails to transition into a gold wolf. He finishes his prayer by asking that Taime that his sister stay a wolf.

All eyes turn on Kida.

She takes a moment. The stillness breeds sorrow. Tears stream down her cheeks. She points to Kiowa, then her heart, and signs like she's breaking a stick over her knee. She thanks Taime for removing the thorn from her heart and giving her a new heart. She goes to point at Walpi, then pauses for an infinite awkward second. Her cheeks blush and she quickly signs her gratitude for her mother and father and asks Taime that they will forgive her and Makes Trouble for the life they have chosen to live.

The tribe lets out soft expressions of joy.

Walpi is the last to go. He asks for only one thing, that whomever he gives his heart to will accept it.

Onendah motions for them all to rise.

"It is important to remember this. We walk in two worlds now. Never forget what it means to be people, but also, enjoy being wolves."

Anoki breaks the reverence. "How long will we be like this?"

Onendah looks to Kiowa with a harsh glance.

Kiowa raises his hand and lowers it, signing her to hold her peace.

Onendah motions for them to come closer.

Kiowa and Anoki put their arms around each other. Their flesh presses together for the first time, which excites them and causes them to blush with giddy waves of tiny tingling lightning bolts.

Onendah lifts the wolf paw and goes to transform them, but Anoki stops him. She slides her smooth hand into Kiowa's rough, firm grip. "I beg of you. Please let us use our mortal hands on mortal flesh as long as magic will permit."

Anoki wastes no time waiting for permission. Onendah's baffled expression gives her the opportunity to lead her love's beaming face off into the forest.

"Ugh…" Onendah says with a confused look on his face. "The honey of love is sticky business. The stingers of these bees' love will certainly keep all of us away."

I will stay awake and watch for the sun. Let them be husband and wife, Makes Trouble signs as he touches the lance and the wolf paw at the same time. He seamlessly transforms into an auburn wolf. Circling around the pit to find a comfortable place to rest, he lies down.

Sitting by the fire, Paw feels his eyes grow heavy. He nods once, then twice, and quickly falls asleep as Onendah rests his old bones.

The fire crackles and sways. When the sky lightens and the stars begin to fade, Paw feels a cold hand push on his arm.

"You did not think Makes Trouble would stay awake, did you?" Onendah asks the dreary-eyed man.

"You were supposed to watch for them," Onendah grumbles. "Now an old man has lost his sleep and will never find it. Get up and quickly go get your pack together."

Paw sits up and yawns. He touches the lance and paw, stretching into a wolf as he leaves the sweat lodge. Outside, he tilts his head back and howls.

Kiowa and Anoki fumble out of the forest. The peaceful, joyous expressions on their faces reveal what their words never could.

Onendah holds the golden lance up. They each place their hand on the shaft. Then he touches each Indian with the wolf's paw. One by one they skinwalk back into wolves.

"Go, my children. Be free!" He waves them off, then returns to the lodge. "I am old and tired. Now I must…" He sits down and yawns. "Time is the enemy to us all. We think it will never run out when we are younger, but here I am, Taime, in the winter of my life. I am here with your spirit all these years later and, somehow, I lived each day as one."

He lifts the owl wing and washes smoke and steam over his head.

"Bless them, Taime. Bless my wild children that they will have great love and happiness in their lives. Do not let the Woman in the Ground take them anytime soon. Let her go find others to take to her land of cold, deep sleep. The world is full of old lazies who would rather sleep always. Lazies like me." He yawns. "So why not take me to rest, Woman in the Ground? Rest with my wife." Onendah blinks once, then falls asleep just as the sun rises.

Several days later, cattle move through the prairie. Fenced in a fifty-mile circuit, they circle and feed on fresh-grown grass and drink from a stream that cuts through the property.

"Yum…num…yum. The tops are so fresh and crisp. It tastes so good! Ona, try you some of this here," Ol' Bruce, the big brown bull, says, rocking his lower jaw back and forth. He grinds the grass to a pulp, then closes his eyes and swallows.

"Simply divine." The thousand-pound prize bull savors each delicious bite.

A cowbell chimes as Ona moseys on over, she's a black-and-white spotted dairy cow with short horns. She leans down and munches on the tall grass.

"Bruce, that sure is good."

Miles away from the cattle, the wolf pack hide in the shadows of a new cave they've discovered.

Paw's long black snout glances over at Kiowa. "I believe Raging Bull now. There are no more buffalo and, like a fool, I killed all the sheep."

"You didn't kill all the sheep," Anoki interjects. "I did. So did Kida."

"Perhaps he was right. So what! He's dead, and nothing can change that. Maybe the time of the buffalo is over. Thankfully, the Great Spirit has provided a new buffalo for us." Makes Trouble licks his lips and motions for the cattle.

Kida squints off in the distance and spots the cattle.

Most of the day, Makes Trouble and Kiowa prepare a plan that they run past Paw. When the three warriors come to an agreement, they run their plan past Kida and Walpi. Brief objections are met with more discussions, but eventually a plan is agreed upon. Then Anoki has her say.

"Rest now. We will need our strength when we move out."

The pack settles down. Most doze off.

Two wolves stir. Kida and Walpi. Waiting for the rest of the pack to fall sleep, Kida slips out and walks a good distance away. She climbs on top of a large cliff that overlooks the canyon and tilts her head to the glowing half-moon and diamond-like stars.

"Arrr, arrr, eeeewwww," she howls softly, singing the wails of her heart. Her words are a mix of sobs and fractured sentences.

"Mother, I miss you. Father, do you miss your daughter? Makes Trouble is happy. Do you search everywhere for us and find us nowhere? We are here with Kiowa and his stupid pack!" she whimpers.

Walpi slowly makes his way up to her, then sits beside her.

"Is it good to mourn for so long?"

"You could not understand a woman's broken heart, Hopi."


	75. Chapter 74

CHAPTER 74

Walpi sighs and rests his fury chin on his fluffy paws. "I understand the seasons. Winter is bitter and sends frost to put out all the flames. I understand Kida's heart. Are your tears for someone other than your mother? Your father? Your tribe? Kiowa? The children you will not have? Hopi are poor warriors, but we see much and we are rich in love."

Walpi sits up and stares deep into her red eyes.

"The way Kiowa feels for Anoki…" He gulps away his fear and forces out, "Is the way I have come to feel for you."

He bristles, shuts his eyes, flattens his ears, and waits for the she-wolf to attack him.

Instead, Kida's tail wags softly between gentle whispers.

When she doesn't hurt him, he feels a surge of courage and goes on. "The desire of my heart is as the dry earth desires the Sun God's tears. I have wanted to tell you for some time, Kida, but I was too scared to say the words. My heart is not warrior, but I become warrior-hearted when I see sweet…no, brave Kida in danger or pain."

"That is all I ever wanted. To be loved by a great warrior."

"That is not me."

"You have just shown more courage than any man I have ever known. They all know to fear me and use their sweet words on other ladies."

"There are no other ladies."

"And that is why you are brave."

Kida scoots over to Walpi and presses herself against him. They turn their faces to each other and stare into each other's eyes. Their tails intertwine.

"I am scared."

"I am more scared."

Before dawn the pack assembles. Anoki stays behind in the cave while the pack forms in a single line. They masterfully use the terrain to their advantage by staying behind the ridgeline and scurrying along in thick patches of sagebrush. When they patrol down to the lower lands, they move along the streams until they enter the Shadow Valley.

The same way they used to hunt the buffalo, Kiowa and the pack quickly sift the yearlings away from the herd and slaughter them with such ease that every wolf has his own kill before the sun fully rises.

Horrified mothers stampede, abandoning their lifeless calves, and race toward their protector, Ol' Bruce.

A three-thousand-pound longhorn bull causes the ground to thump as he stomps his hoof to uproot grass.

"Ol' Bruce, Ona," Lucy, a new milk cow frantically cries out, "wolves slaughtered my babies!"

"I thought this was the land of milk and honey. We were told when we made the long trip from Texas that there were no wolves, bears, or cougars. Are you certain you saw wolves?" Ona wails.

"We was told a lie, Ona. Sure there's green grass and cool streams, but there's also ferocious wolves hiding in hills," Betty informs him in frantic, heaving breaths.

Bruce spits out a mouthful of grass. The veins in his eyes flush and crackle like red lightning. "Where did you see 'em?"

"Down by the stream. Oh, please hurry, before they kill all of us."

Ol' Bruce courageously trots across the grasslands. His horns cast a long shadow. Soon he sees for himself that Betty is telling no fable. Several spotted bloodstains stand out in stark contrast to the green grass. Entrails are already neatly piled next to severed heads. The calves have all been butchered, broken up into portions, and dragged off.

"We gotta get as far away from here as possible, Ona. Let's huddle up and make for the ranch. Master Geoffrey will put hot lead through these wolves."

"Circle up, y'all. We're gonna go let Rancher Geoffrey know what's happened here"

Back at the cave, the wolves return with mouths full of dripping red meat.

"That was too easy. They must be someone's pets," Paw says, dropping a severed hindquarter.

"Pale-face must raise them, as they do the little fluffy buffalo," Walpi suggests.

"You mean they raise them for food?" Anoki asks.

Walpi nods.

Anoki leans down and sniffs the meat. She turns away at the potent acrylic odor.

"I wouldn't trade all the little white fluffy buffalo in the world for the tame buffalo," she says, reluctantly taking a bite.

"Paw, if the buffalo have all been led to a cave by the Great White Buffalo, then certainly we can survive off the tame buffalo until they return," Kiowa confidently concludes with an air of logic that resonates with his pack.

"Nothing is as it once was, Nephew. These whites and Mexicans are setting up permanent homes. They chop trees and make homes that cannot be easily moved like our tepees. They kill buffalo till the Great White Buffalo is forced to lead her herd away. I do not know if they will ever return."

"No one could know that." Makes Trouble sighs.

"We have seen their iron horse blow steam along firm tracks that do not fade in snow or rain. I am greatly concerned for our tribe."

"Why?" Kiowa boldly questions.

"If we are governed by barbed fences and forced to feed off the invader's tame beasts, what are our people to do? They do not have four legs to outrun thunder sticks." Paw thinks on these changes.

"Our people will do what they have always done. Raid. Roam. Steal horses where they can find them," Kida says, offering her best thoughts.

"Yes, those are our laws. But what laws will govern us now? What will we lose?" Paw's deep questions make his heart sink. "You have sisters and nieces and nephews. Do you not think of them?"

"Of course I do. When the harvest moon comes again, we will seek Onendah's counsel. Until then, we should take only what we need and no more."

"I think we should start killing hunters!" Makes Trouble snickers.

"I see that your owl thoughts have fled from you," Kiowa rebuts.

"What do you mean?" Makes Trouble asks as though he's offended.

"Who killed first? The Cheyenne or the Kiowa?"

"The Cheyenne, of course!" Kida belts out.

"So our fathers say. Now that we are parents, can you not see that you would say anything to protect your loved ones. Right now wolves kill to eat. If we kill a man of any color, man is certain to strike back."

"And there are more of them than us," Makes Trouble consents.

"An ocean more," Kiowa answers.

Kiowa and Anoki nod in agreement.

The wolves stick to their new code, but news of their kills meet the press on the regular. Folks organize town meetings. Wiremen tap headlines. Publishers produce books with terrifying pictures of wolves eating people. Word spreads through the territories and the old states. The decision of what to do is discussed in taverns and decided over beer.

"My herd has been whittled down by half!"

"I ain't lost half, but our loss is eroding our profit. Won't be able to raise as many cattle next year, which means I won't make enough to send my boy off to university."

"I can't afford to pay my mortgage this year, on account I lost all my sheep."

The list of complaints accumulates quickly in deafening shouts.

Although the wolves get credit for crimes they didn't commit, the blame is rightly placed for many of the things they did do.

On Sunday talk spills over into church. Some preachers preach sermons mingled with Scripture.

"And behold, it says in 1 Timothy, 3:5, 'For if a man knows not how to rule his own house, how shall he take care of the Church of God?' If we can't take care of our livestock, how can we take care of our homes? If we can't take care of our homes, how can we take care of our churches?"

Others preach nearly the same sermon, but with much more infatuation.

"The devil is in our midst! We must purge this Satanic Werewolf. Man beast. What have you? Sift this tare out from our wheat, by the power God has given us with these Colt forty-four, six-shootin' pistols. If the wolf seeketh to destroy our flocks, he will not stop until he devours all our animals! Our livelihoods! Our children! Our wives! Our young men! Our old! Our homes! We shall all perish with great famine, as the Egyptians did, unless we fight the righteous cause!"

"Here! Here!" were the cries of the congregation for both sermons, which put the seal needed to take strong action against Kiowa's pack.

Where preachers weren't, sermons were. Only they were mingled with more plain words and topped off with foaming beer-filled mugs in pubs and bars.

"We gotta get that wolf!"

"If I get that wolf, I'm gonna skin him and wear his pelt 'round town, see if I can't impress the ladies."

"Ain't no way a wolf coulda done this; it's a werewolf, and it's gotta die!"

"We gotta kill it!"

"Needs killin', and we're just the ones to do it."

Words, as they say, are hardly the equivalent to damages inflicted by sticks and stones. But words mixed with alcohol get folks riled up in such a way that sticks and stones actually do start to break bones. And one stick, the thunder stick as the Indians call it, was new to the prairie. In fact, Colt's brand-new invention, the rapid-fire rifle, was on its way to Cimarron. Carried by a trapper, who planned to replace printed words and whispers with thunderous echoes everywhere he saw fit.


	76. Chapter 75

CHAPTER 75

Cotton prances through foot-high snow like a champion stallion even though he is just a well-trained Appalachian mountain horse. The ride to Buffalo Bay was a rough and cold hundred-and-thirty-three-mile trek. What should have taken three days on horseback in good weather took nearly ten. W.H. hardly strains Cotton, but Bingo, on the other hand, does not fare as well. The cold morning is well lit. The ground is covered in a frozen blanket caused by unique snowdrifts. Skeleton trees are covered in icy crystals, which sparkle and gleam, dazzling the eyes. Fortunately, homesteaders showed Christian kindness and let the motley crew bunk in the barn to escape the cold.

W.H. turns in his saddle and looks down at his loyal dog.

"Eh, Bingo, it looks like we're saying good-bye to these snow-covered caps for a year or so."

The collie looks up at him with a dreadful expression.

W.H. laughs. "If I didn't have all this equipment, you could ride up here with me."

Bingo barks at him.

"Buddy, you can stay at the college. Dr. Bennett would take better care of you than I can."

Bingo barks his dissatisfaction in both the travel and in leaving his master's side.

"Well, then, you're caught in a pea pod of misery. Suck it up, buttercup. We just arrived."

When they approach the steamboat dock, a few ratty box buildings line the Lake of the Woods dock. Women in plaid and checked winter gowns line the dock and wooden Riverwalk which encircles the water's edge. They look like brilliant winter flowers on a white blanket. Bonnets cover their heads, and they are very particular who they make eye contact with and for how long.

Some men in handsome black, brown, and white business suits hold umbrellas and shield ladies from snow and occasional gusts of wind. Shawls hardly keep the girls warm, but to look their best and cover it up is too much to ask. Thus they endure the frigid elements and show their beautiful shivering figures.

Children dressed in their Sunday best chase one another up and down the line, hurling snowballs at one another. Girls, of course, cling to their mothers' sides and behave well. Most look like miniature versions of their mothers. Boys, on the other hand, look like something else. Their uniforms, or lack thereof, distinguish their family by class.

As W.H. rides up, he wonders what he's supposed to do with Cotton. Swinging his legs out of his saddle, he strolls up to the counter and instantly feels the cold biting at his feet.

Poor Bingo, he thinks, then dismisses his empathy with a wave.

"Hello there!"

"Howdy!" a clerk wearing a green visor, a white shirt, and a black tie hollers through a barred window.

Inside the lantern-lit office, W.H. can see a cast-iron stove and wishes he could put Bingo in there for a bit.

"I'd like to book passage."

"Final destination?"

Unable to remember where he's going, W.H. reaches inside his pocket and removes the newspaper article. He scans it for a destination.

"Cimarron, New Mexico."

"New Mexico, my goodness, sir. You are going to have quite the adventure."

"I certainly hope so! Why do you say that?"

"Well, that's the Northwest Territory! We only have steamers that go so far. You'll hop on a train that will take you to Omaha, Nebraska. From there you can catch some other carts, but don't count on it. Train robbers and Injuns is making a mess of progress."

"Is that so?" W.H. looks back at his rifle and wonders if he shouldn't bring it with him.

"You're in luck, Mister. The Rising Star is a livestock-friendly vessel, so you can board your horse below decks. So long as he don't get seasickness. Do you know if he gets sick or throws fits on the water?"

W.H. shakes his head. "She does not."

"Well, so long as she can be controlled, she can store below. If she can't, they might put her down and toss her overboard."

"How is a feller supposed to know?"

"I guess you will just have to wait and find out."

"That hardly seems like a fair deal."

"That's the way it is!"

The clerk tilts his green visor down and counts out six preprinted tickets, then licks his pencil and marks the destinations and transfers. "Michigan and Illinois are going to be some great stops. Have you ever been to the big city?"

"Bigger than Winnipeg?" W.H. asks.

"By a barrel and a peck."

"A barrel and a peck?"

"These are your stayovers and depots. Try not to lose these tickets. If you do, it's fine. Just remember to tell them Buffalo Bay Depot. They can wire us and I can validate your tickets. That'll be two hundred and forty-seven dollars and eighty-nine cents."

W.H. looks over the man's shoulder and catches a long view of an odd wooden-based machine with mysterious wires and brass fittings attached to its face. "Why don't you just use that contraption to let them know I'm coming? Then I won't have to worry about losing my tickets."

"Telegraph every depot? That would take entirely too much time, sir."

"Longer than it will take me to get there?"

"Ha!" The man laughs, then looks down and sees W.H.'s pistol. His face grows serious. "Would you like to see how it works?"

"Absolutely!"

The man walks around the side door, unlocks it, and greets W.H. wearing shorts instead of pants.

W.H. looks down and smiles. "You got a good deal."

"I sure do. Come on in here."

W.H. leaves the door open long enough for Bingo to slip through. The collie looks at him with so much gratitude in his eyes, W.H. can't help but grin.

"This little fellow has wires to transmit, a sender to talk, and a battery for power. A copper wire runs from the station all the way to the next depot."

"How do you transmit messages?"

"Morse code."

"What's that?"

"A series of dashes and dots that represent letters in the alphabet. See, this here is the sender. It can move up and down like this, see?" He pushes to the sender to show how a dash and a dot are represented.

W.H. stares at the clerk blankly.

"Here's how it works. This copper wire right here goes from the device all the way to the Ohio. It gets wrapped around an electromagnet and then comes back to here and completes a circuit."

W.H. tries his best to catch every detail, but he can't understand what in tarnation the man is talking about. He politely nods and does his best not to yawn, but soon he can't even control that.

"I see that I'm losing you."

"Oh no. This is all very interesting."

"Look at it from a more simple view. I can send information to whoever is on the other end of this line as fast as I can tap my finger."

"Hmm…Well, people already have access to information through the papers and books."

"Do you have any idea how long it takes a printing press to run a line of books or newspapers? By the time the information reaches its intended audience, things have changed."

"So what's your point?"

"Don't you see it?"

"'Fraid not, feller."

"All these inventions are speeding things up. Making them faster."

"But your devices aren't doing anything I can't do with my pen, paper, and trusty horse."

"You know what I'm going to do?"

W.H. shakes his head.

"I'm going to prove to you just how powerful this device is."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I'm going to send an arrest and detain order out to all these stations and see just how far you can get."

W.H. leaps to his feet, now wide-awake. "You better not!"

"Now you see how powerful information is. You youngsters can't appreciate the value of time because you think you have so much of it. Truth is, none of us really knows how long we have to live. But when your youth is threatened with bars, it stirs you. Why is that?"

"I dunno. I suppose the thought of being caged is more than my young years can bear."

"Well, anywho, pay your tab and we'll settle up and you can be on your way."

"Thank you for telling me all about that telegraph. I was mighty interested in learning about it."

W.H. reaches inside his pocket and removes a pouch containing several gold coins.

The teller's eyes light up at the clack of the coins.

W.H. pulls out a palmful of Spanish gold coins and counts out two.

"That's quite a bit of money you have there, sir. Be sure not to advertise your good fortune. Cardsharps will be sure to lift the hefty purse of a youthful man like yourself."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, sir! Also, the ships and railroads have safes, so if you will be needing a quarter-inch of steel to keep your monies and valuables secure, be sure to let the ticket master know."

"Ain't they getting robbed?"

The clerk nods. He pauses for a moment and looks down, then looks back up and sees the contradiction.

W.H. opens the door and lets in the cold. Bingo reluctantly stands up and inches his way back out into the frigid winter weather. Outside, W.H. unties his horse and takes his place in line.

Children rush Bingo and pour an ocean of sweet affections on him. W.H. is asked no less than a hundred times if he's willing to "give up his well-behaved hound." He's also asked a hundred times if "he's killed a man with his pistol." He answers no so frequently, he wonders if he shouldn't pay the wire man to type his answer into their brains. The thought makes him chuckle, then ponder if that won't be next.

With the thunderous echo of a cannon, a veiled steamer appears off on the horizon.

W.H. did not know what to expect on account he had never seen a steamer.

 **Last word from the author:** I hope you've enjoyed the read. It's been fun giving this away, but alas, we've arrived at Christmas. 75 Chapters have been delivered as promised. This will be the last chapter I release on Fanficiton. If you want the rest of the story, you can find it here Harvest-Moon-Zachary-H-Lovelady/dp/0997809000/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1545733229&sr=8-1-fkmr0&keywords=harvest+moon+zachary+h.+love+lady.

If that's too much to type, just go over to Amazon. Search for "Harvest Moon," by Zachary H. Lovelady. Purchase the book in Kindle or buy the book. If you'd rather enter my book give away, get on face book or instagram. Search for Harvestmoonofficial. I'm giving one autographed copy away, so long as the books last. I'm in Italy, writing & filming a movie. My books are in the US. I signed them before I left, so don't expect Amazon to ship here, have me sign it and then ship it to you. That would literally be hundreds of dollars. I'm not saying I won't do it, I'm just saying, "highly unlikely." You can also check out my website,

New years Eve I will release Anna & Christian's collision into this world. I'll run it under a different title. "Anna & Christian, Skin Walk," unless you guys can think of a better title. I apologize that I haven't released it yet, but like I said, I'm an artist. My work has to be up to my standards before I let it go and although the first few chapters are there, in a lot of ways, they aren't where I want them just yet. Merry Christmas and may God bless us, everyone!


	77. Chapter 76

It's 2018. A hundred and fifty nine years from when Anoki and Kiowa transformed into wolves, married, and... (go buy the book to find out what happened! "Harvest Moon" by Zachary H. Lovelady on Amazon. Kindle or Book format. Do it now!)

Christian hops in a four door Jeep. "Ready babe?"

"For what?"

"It's a surprise."

He ties a blind fold around her eyes. Turns the key. Presses on the gas, and revs the engine. The powerful machine peels out of their drive way and down the road.

Two hours later she grows impatient, "can I peak now?" she grumbles.

"No."

"Where are you taking me?"

"It's a surprise."

"Four hours away from Seattle?"

"You're going to love it!"

She spends the next two hours guessing. Slowly, he removes the blind fold. Anna's eyes squint as her pupils focus. A sign catches her attention, "welcome to Forks? You brought me to Forks Washington?"


	78. Chapter 77

August 20th, 2018

Dear Diary,

Christian is such a sweet heart. Aside from being a business genius, he is a helpless romantic. He surprised me with a trip to Forks Washington. I didn't even know he knew I was reading, "Twilight." I'm blushing, but also, I'm gushing. He is my Edward, and I am his Bella! I hope that doesn't sound too cliche'. We drove through the town and saw where Bella works. I took pictures out in front of the high school. I even found Doctor Cullen's parking spot. The best part was Lappels. This store has everything Twilight. I bought a bumper sticker. We weren't in Forks for long. Around sunset we took the 101 to highway 110. It was a beautiful drive. The trees are as tall as buildings. You can't see inside the forest it's so thick, but when you can, it looks an awful lot like magic. Especially when I listen to the sound track.

"Are you happy?" Christian asks.

"Glowing!" I respond as I run my hands through my hair.

We pass a sign that says, "Treaty line, no vampires beyond this point."

I grab the steering wheel and force Christian to pull over. We come to a skidding stop. I jump out and turn back to the jeep.

"What are you looking for?"

"A pen!"

"Here." Christian reaches inside his coat pocket and pulls out a red pen, "I insist."

I place the cap between my teeth and hold it there for a moment, "later, I'm going to show my appreciation."

His eyebrows raise and he's happier than any man whose given a girl a pen.

I pop the cap off. He winces. Can't help myself at this point. I sign the board, step back and look at my handy work.

"It's almost sunset, we gotta get to the resort before the front desk closes."

"Resort?"

He nods.

Again the key turns. The engine roars. The tires squeel. A woman with a long blonde pony tail runs out and shouts something.

"Guess we won't be getting gas there," Christian says as he flips her off.

I slink into my seat.

Ten minutes later we pass a sign that says, "Mmmm... fish." I don't know anyone in their right mind that would stop there. A short drive from that, a gate blocks a steep road up to a driveway. A wooden sign suspened by totum poles reads, "Quilluite cemetry." A bright red sign reads , "no tresspassing."

I look at Christian, "whadya bet that's where they store their clothes before they shape shift into warewolves?"

"Arrrreeewwww! Lets get naked tonight and go find out."

"Not a chance! I don't do grave yards. Spankings are one thing, the dead is another."

At the check out office, I notcie some interesting memorabilya.

"Cabin 26 is one of our best," the Native girl says behind the counter. She's cute with long black braids. High cheek bones. Ruset skin. Just how I imagined she would look.

Back in the jeep and down a winding dirt road, we pass several cabins before I spot ours.

"That's it!"

Christian backs up, then pulls in. He grabs our bags, I grab the keys.

"This place is incredible."

Several slidding japanese rice doors zone off the bedroom. I'm grateful for that since wide open windows make up the cabin front. Fallen timbers litter the beach. If there were a competition for gothic exotic beaches, La Push would take first place. Gray clouds roll in from off the horizon. Sunlight blasts through and touches the ocean.

"I didn't know the ocean was blue up here."

"What color did you think it was?"

"Grey. Like you!"

He wraps his arms around me from behind.

"You know what I can't stop thinking about?"

"What?"

"That pen!"

"Just let me enjoy this, gosh you are such a pig sometimes."

I look down at the wide jacuzi tub. 'We will definately be using that later!'

I turn around and kiss him.

The waves crash so close they sound like they're going to wash up and sweep us away.

Authors note: Ever been to cabin 26? My wife and I have. Hope you enjoyed this. If you did, leave a review. I got enough negative ones, its high time I see some positive ones.


	79. Chapter 78

At sunrise, Christain and I enjoy breakfast.

"There's a hike I want to take you on today."

"Hike? Like in the mountains?"

"No, just up the road. It's called first beach. I was thinking we'd pack in the bubbly."

The thought of hiking in the woods is exciting. The hike is even more exciting. The trees are tall. Emerald green evergreens hover above us. Around the trunks of the trees, likens wind up the base and spiroll all the way to the top. I imagine running up them to get a birds eye view. We only hike about an hour before I hear the ocean.

"Christian, it's so beautiful."

He takes my hand. We walk down a steep incline. On the beach, we are utterly alone. Our only company is grey bleached timbers that wash up on shore. They look like skeleton trees scattered on the beach. It makes me smile because its a warm gray. When we were building our house, I found a stain from Home Depot online called, "Weather Wash." I used it on cedar and got a very similar look. The idea of capturing the colors around me in my very own home makes me feel like a great artist. Like Micheal Angelo, which is silly.

"Hey, did you see that?" Christian asks as we near the end of the beach.

I spot a rope drapped over a cliff.

"Come on!" he says, rushing towards it.

"Christian, I don't know if..." before I can finish my sentence, he's already at the base. He's got the rope in his hands and he's climbing up a mountain. A real mountain. Not those tiny hills they have all across America.

"I just really want to stay on the beach!"

"I'll be right back. I just want to see where this goes."

"All right then. I guess I'll just sit here with the bubbly... by myself... all alone."

I sit down on the beach. Another couple arrives with their child. They take off their shoes and walk along the coast. I pull my phone out and start snapping some pictures. I post to facebook. The likes are instant."

"OMG, he really loves you," one of my friends writes.

Then another writes, "sups jelly."

Before I know it, it's near sunset.

The family packs their back pack and leaves. Fortunately, they started a fire, so I sit down and add fuel. The breeze pics up. I text Christian. He shoots back a picture of a tide pool that he can't cross.

"Are you serious?"

"Sorry babe, I crossed this channel, the only way back is through this tide pool. The path is washed out."

I'm all alone. I start to cry, but then catch myself.

"I'm so pissed," I tap away.

But as I'm looking at the picture, I notice something behind him. The shape of something. Something in the shadows that has a distinct form.

I screen shot it. Circle it and text back, "is that a bear?"


End file.
